Ruby red, small fisted, dauntless royal heart,
heart that has born me up, loaned me a life.
This heart that runs of its own accord,
with daily rescues, with my will as cohort.
How it keeps thumping, pushing,
sweet talking despite time or errors, passions
wearing out me out, the cumulative years
like sand falling, driven against stone,
and wind gnarling the once green tree.
I call out to it even as it labors,
don’t let me down, dance me just so,
grow old at home behind the light armor
of ribs with a proprietary peace.
And still it heeds my pleas.
I carry it into the ruins of the world,
into dangers of ordinary living,
and tentative runs with silver hair flying, on walks
with legs that push until my breath shortens,
squeezes me to a stop. I count the seconds,
eyes widely watering, back to passersby
until we can go on, panting,
dash through tender or cutting rains,
under sun’s umbrella, in moonlight’s whisper
and the trees, who know everything.
You feel with me as they wave, rivers flash,
and other creatures call.
You feel because I feel. Or is it
the other way around, my friend?
The rest we manage, too, madcap
mysteries and random muttering spiked
with bolts of anger and deep weeping wells,
sorts of things few might admit but we cannot deny.
We are comrades, more than this,
confessor and confessed,
body and soul.
So today when the one (who 20 years ago
salvaged us) intones with smile and handshake
doing well once more, keep up the great work,
stop worrying because you know
we all die of something-
I lift you, my heart, out into the world
feeling more brave and sturdy but this, too:
five more years, ten more years. Please.
When all that exists for us is this moment,
old heart, so let us know the glory of it.
the golden romance of another reprieve.
Good heart, it only comes to this,
that we shall live and live and pass as one
8 thoughts on “Friday’s Passing Fancy/Poem: We All Die of Something”
This is beautiful. I love it. “…the trees, who know everything.” So true! What a perfect way to begin another challenging day, reading this poem and understanding that so much of life is universally shared.
True, that….humanity with its burdens, its sorrows–my prayers of relief and compassion to you, Julia.
My past year has given me a rough time, unexpectedly–which is always a bit harder. I am working on my attitude and daily trying to surrender to God’s plan–we must always keep up our hope for enduring the present and aiming for better times…
PS–Thank you kindly for reading and appreciating.
An excellent tribute – incidentally I can only assume you managed to get out of that position,.
Thanks very much, Derrick. Yes, I managed fine, though it was a small challenge, which I seem to seek out!
What a wonderful poem, Cynthia. It is a positive statement against worry and fret. Life isn’t measured by length but by quality; therefore, the best life is a long, well-lived happy life! 🙂
Thank you for sharing.
How lovely of you to use such a positive adjective! I always appreciate your support, Paul-thank you once more.