Post by michaelgallatin on Dec 3, 2011 11:45:11 GMT -5
Growing older,
can feel the chill,
no longer have I
time to kill.
It's more like
time is killing me,
bit by slow bit
as you can see.
Day by day
feeling memory fade,
watching closely
the approaching shade.
That final curtain
to this show
while losing
everything I know.
Sunlight dapples
in hazy shimmer
as my world
grows ever dimmer.
Darker, blacker,
like the night
as my tired mind
cowers down in fright.
Feeling now
approaching death
measured by
each labored breath.
Soon The Reaper will
my soul embrace
while I gaze at
his sad, smiling face.
He's not as evil
as you'd think
and he hands me a cup
from which I drink.
And as I taste
his cold, sweet wine,
a candle winks out
but that is fine.
Michael "He Comes To All" Gallatin
Author's Note - This poem, sadly, is inspired by watching my eighty-eight year-old mother-in-law aging. As she grows older, there's more confusion and she's less able to care for herself. This is something I've seen over and over again doing social work and health care but now it's personal. There's sadness and difficulty seeing anyone lose pieces of themselves and their lives as the days go by. But as this happens to friends and family, it's all the more hard because it's closer to your heart. Still aging and death are as much a part of life as birth and growing. I saw my grandson coming into the world. And I'm seeing a sweet, old lady slowly going out. Life and death are entwined and that is something we must face with acceptance and grace.
can feel the chill,
no longer have I
time to kill.
It's more like
time is killing me,
bit by slow bit
as you can see.
Day by day
feeling memory fade,
watching closely
the approaching shade.
That final curtain
to this show
while losing
everything I know.
Sunlight dapples
in hazy shimmer
as my world
grows ever dimmer.
Darker, blacker,
like the night
as my tired mind
cowers down in fright.
Feeling now
approaching death
measured by
each labored breath.
Soon The Reaper will
my soul embrace
while I gaze at
his sad, smiling face.
He's not as evil
as you'd think
and he hands me a cup
from which I drink.
And as I taste
his cold, sweet wine,
a candle winks out
but that is fine.
Michael "He Comes To All" Gallatin
Author's Note - This poem, sadly, is inspired by watching my eighty-eight year-old mother-in-law aging. As she grows older, there's more confusion and she's less able to care for herself. This is something I've seen over and over again doing social work and health care but now it's personal. There's sadness and difficulty seeing anyone lose pieces of themselves and their lives as the days go by. But as this happens to friends and family, it's all the more hard because it's closer to your heart. Still aging and death are as much a part of life as birth and growing. I saw my grandson coming into the world. And I'm seeing a sweet, old lady slowly going out. Life and death are entwined and that is something we must face with acceptance and grace.
Hi Lisa, glad you liked this piece! I'm sure that many people can relate to it. We all grow old and, obviously, we all die. The only real differences are in how we age, how we deal with it and how we die. I've seen a lot as I've worked in Social Work and Health Care. And being 63 I've also seen friends and family age and some pass away. It all touches you emotionally though admittedly with friends and family it has to be more personal. And often it's not easy on the person or the family. Yet I hope we all have the capacity to grow old and reach the end with style and grace. When I was much younger, I read a lot of Ray Bradbury. One of his best books is called Dandelion Wine. He wrote mostly science fiction and fantasy but this one is about a boy growing up in a small town. When his grandmother dies, she calls all her loved ones in, says goodbye, pulls the covers up around herself and goes to God with dignity, grace and peace. I so wish it was like that for all of us!
and 
all
time for me 
echoes, hope you all are doing well 
