Last fall, when I was still very new to blogging, I posted a poem that I had written for a poetry class I had taken several years ago. A friend of mine in California recently asked me if I would post it again on this blog -- I got shut out of my original blog as some of you may know. So, I found it again and here it is.
Perplexed
Some days I can find the beauty in growing old
Time to read, write, explore cyberspace.
Time to knit, try new recipes or fix old favorites.
Sleeping in, staying up late -- no schedules.
Time to read, write, and explore cyberspace,
Which in turn leads me to discover things now out of reach.
Sleeping in, staying up late -- yeah, no schedules.
It's suddenly far too easy to discover just what's wrong with that.
Which in turn leads me to discover things that I miss,
The excitement of meeting a deadline on a project, a night on the town.
It's suddenly not so easy to find what's wrong with that.
And looking forward to a night of dancing the tango, oh, the best!
The excitement of meeting a deadline on a project, a night on the town.
I miss that kind of "busy", the feeling that my life had a real purpose,
And looking forward to a night of dancing the tango -- still the best.
I am learning new things, doing new things, but it's not the same.
I miss that kind of "busy", the feeling that my life had a real purpose,
Not just time to knit or try new recipes or fix old favorites,
And I am learning new things, doing new things, but it's not the same.
Still, some days I can find the beauty in growing old.
I realized as I was typing this today that I don't even think about getting older any more and my life in many ways has become as exciting as it was before -- different but still exciting. I realized you never get too old to have someone, some thing take your breath away. You never get too old to wake with a sense of joy and an eagerness to take on the day, to discover something/someone that opens that door to all the beauty, the love, the joy that you might have thought had slipped out of your life forever. Life is and always will be exactly what you choose to make of it.
I'll take joy!
9 comments:
Beautiful thoughts, Sylvia, and so true.
Truer words were never spoken. Life it what you make it; we make our choices.
We can choose to feel self pity, dwell on what might have been, and see the glass half empty or we can be grateful for our years, find new projects to replace the old, accept the new struggles that aging brings and see the glass half full.
Absolutely!!
xxsm
so so true..
beautiful post!
Oh I like your new prose better than your old poetry! You were learning new things, but it just took a while to understand what they were.
I feel much more settled and complete now than I did my first two years after retirement. It takes a while to grow the patterns of a new style of finding fulfillment.
Agree..that's a lovely post! have a great weekend!
What a lovely blog. Yes....It is a wonderful journey. I like to say "Let us all find joy in the journey". Thank you for sharing.
I'm glad you reposted it. Wonderful.
I love your poem, and I like the insight after it even better: definitely words to live by!
Thanks, Sylvia, you share the most wonderful things.
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