You are so afraid of getting old
having wrinkles, having flaws,
weakening muscles, fading eyesight,
clouding memory, so like the
lady witches on fairy tales
you wish to be forever young.

But never did you realised
the beauty of old age.

You were far too busy for simply
being present and savouring the moment.
You were young and life rushed by you.
Your mind was so busy, constantly racing
and striving for success, where
every moment seemed filled with goals,
of places to go and people to see.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Now you’re old, having all the things
you’re so afraid of, but is more present
and ever mindful, finding pleasure
in the smallest things:

Such a rewarding experience
is putting on your pajamas at night
and the ease and relaxation that accompanied
this simple act of changing clothes.

You wake up with complete awareness
of the aches and pains, yet happy
that you are alive and have lived
a full life that your physical body now
reminds you of.

You start your day by the simple task
of brushing your teeth, and you realize,
how lucky you are to have those teeth and
you’re excited to take care of them,
they have value to you that you neglected
when you were young.

You see now how your work is
of so much benefit to so many.
To support the ones you love, and
to help others who are in need, is a
tremendous blessing.
You realise how wonderful
that you’re able to work.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

So, do your feet hurt? Yes,
but you’re grateful you can walk.
Do your neck and shoulders ache?
Sure, but you’re thankful
you can sit upright and feed yourself.
Do you often feel back pain?
Certainly, but it’s still very strong
and can carry a great deal.

And for all of these things,
all of these aches and pains,
all the wrinkles, all the imperfections
you see all the joy and happiness.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Tomorrow,
you will be older still,
and this body will further decay.
But rather than struggle against this,
welcome your own impermanence.
It’s a wonderful life we all share,
and it’s a blessing to grow old!


© Diana (2:43 am, May 7, 2014)

I'd finger you with
mozzarella sticks
any day or night.

I saw the old man circling the tree trunk
Weather beaten skin, bent gnarled hands
and piercing blue eyes

He seemed to study every knot and crack
in that ancient timber

Then without a word turned and picked up hammer and chisel

The wood chips then began to fly and like confetti on the ground lie soon in heaps some ankle high

Occasionally he would stand back and look but never once a rest he took

Mallet strokes both hard and soft some from under some aloft fell there with unerring skill always busy never still

Long into the night he worked now by the light of an oil lamp and so the tree stump 'neath his hand then became a work of art

At long last he stood and turned to me and said three words " that'll do lad"

I approached to see just what he'd done and there I saw the perfect rose every petal and leaf in place the slender stems in the breeze did sway

With no plan or picture he had made the start
And created the perfect work of art.


So what is creativity? Well that's your next challenge.

No love poems because they've been done a million times. This time something unique

Sometimes I wish I was blind.
No, don't get me wrong.
I'm grateful that I can see flowers and sunsets but,

It's that many times what my eyes see is distorted.

It's that I find myself making judgements about people based on what they wear, what their race is, where they come from, and caving in to stereotypes set in my mind instead of thinking about who they are as a person.

It's that I use words like ugly or fat to describe people as if looks alone defined them and as if I had the power to define beauty.

It's that I start comparing myself to others instead of being thankful for what I have and who I am.

It's that I start checking out guys
And seeing what's on the outside instead of wondering about what lies inside .

It's that I start selecting people to be friends with based on their appearance instead of wondering who they are as a human being.

It's that my eyes hinder me from focusing on what's truly important.

And perhaps if I was blind my soul would better understand that there is more than meets the eye.
That what makes certain humans great is how passionate they are when they talk about what they love.
How caring they can be in time of need.
How their personality can far outshine looks.
How even if physically a person may be falling apart on the inside they have the greatest heart.

Perhaps if I was blind,
Maybe then would I truly see.

They tell us to be individuals,
But give us a uniform,
To protect us from each other,
Because were humans and we judge.

The clothes we wear define us,
The way we speak undermines us,
The way we act proves whether were good or bad
But the things we feel stay inside us.

Maybe we should destroy mirrors,
To then destroy our own problems.
The things we hate about ourselves
Become reflected on others
In fits of jealousy.

I guess to be individuals,
We must expect to be judged,
We have to sink into the crowd,
To eliminate that judgement.
But it won't change a thing
Because there will always be something
That people don't like about us.

There's your individuality.