Where will they hide, the feral cats?
Cranes have ancient places to migrate to
With years added to years one thinks
Of these things like pointed pursuits.
One idea takes hold of another idea
Like rising pitch of a siren hurrying to a destination
Cranes know where to go
And where to return.
Dreams can be deep in the subconscious
Will functional imaging know?
Subconscious messages wanting explanations
Who will quote them?
Somewhere new light is emerging
The eagerness is hard to stop
Shortening years do not dwell on losses
Not in darkness but in new striving.
Life is to be mastered and celebrated
Life can be full to the end.
The passage of time will come in your day
When the smallest thing , a little word here,
A little word there, can be enormous
Your mind will dance, sparks will fly
Enjoy, tiredness is nearby and watching
Pour a glass of cognac
Or a nap may suffice.
Old age approaches threshold of innocence
easing it’s way for memory to slowly fade
soundless like a star falling from the sky
a swan in the river.
immersed in life
between the thumbs
the who and what
the fastest, where
accomplishing one goal
chasing the next
you lost the space
the liminal space to hold
the sunset on your palms
one day, looking at the morning mist
you rubbed your eyes
you could not remember
the colors of roses, of camellias
afraid you also forgot
voices of your friends.
You have time
but do not wait too long
you may get stranded
by the receding tide
and too exhausted
to be frightened
You have time
to return to the roots of your narratives
to sip coffee, to listen
to the tribe’s ailments and pains
simply to be with friends
to drink and eat with friends
to share the hilarity
of oysters on a half-shell
or in silence, gaze together
at the mountain or the sea.