I cannot hear the gentle rain any more —
it has to come down hard on the roof
for me to hear it well,
but I can see it bouncing on the leaves
of the honeysuckle and the salal.
My world is quiet.
I’m slow — really slow —
and stumble on the forest paths.
There are bruises and scars
inside and out from mishaps —
sometimes I fall.
So far, I always get back up.
I don’t know if “over the hill
is better than under it.”
How could I know that?
But I do know I’m not finished yet.
I still have work to do.
Joy is in the doing.
Someone asked, would you live forever
if you could? How could I know that?
Eighty isn’t even a fraction of forever.
I’m still learning new things, and
I shall know when it’s time to go
dancing Home.
© 2018 by Jessica Macbeth 2018
Really, really beautiful, Jesa.
This is indeed beautiful, Jesa! A very happy and blessed birthday to you <3 <3 <3
Camilla
Oh, Wow! Happy birthday wonderful person!
That is an exquisite breath in the mist that is this dawning of “elder” age.
sounding nostalgic, better to be over the hill than under it. My mother’s sisters lived into their mid 90s and did well enough independently. Keep going until we can’t.
Beautiful… the journey continues