You don’t
know how many you’ll get.
Horizons
don’t draw closer, they just are.
They sit on life’s periphery,
Reminding
you that there’s something beyond what you see,
The curved
earth dipping into eternity.
At 45 the
simple lesson learned is this:
Be kind,
appreciate kindness.
Kiss and
appreciate the kiss returned.
Put music
on and listen to the thoughts stirred up by collected notes.
Feel the
breeze, close your eyes and remember others.
Try not to
give up, unless you give up.
If you do,
grow back, don’t look back; move on.
When you
read a phrase you like, read it aloud –
Let it roll
on your tongue like a blissful dog.
Enjoy food.
Hug even
when it makes the other person uncomfortable.
Close your
mouth to senseless arguments.
Leave your
mark on this world in hearts and minds,
The place
erosion cannot file away.
Sit on
drafty mountain peaks,
Wade in
cool streams with jeans rolled up.
Turn your
collar up against the autumn winds,
Find
shelter in doorways from sideways rains.
Life is
sensual, and senses can be hard.
Acrid
stenches, physical pain at the touch, deafening noises,
The taste
of bile, awful unforgettable sights.
Senses can
be good:
The scent
of memories, the warmth of an embrace,
A soothing
piece of music,
A meal made
from simple ingredients that satisfies the tongue,
Seeing the
ones you love happy.
At 45
The
reminder of my age is more to me than
The popping
candy in my knees and greying chest,
But a hint
to abandon the worst
And
appreciate the best.
You don’t
know how many you’ll get.
Horizons
don’t draw closer, they just are.
They sit on life’s periphery,
Reminding
you that there’s something beyond what you see,
The curved
earth dipping into eternity.
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