aging – Knot to Be Undone

Wabi-Sabi Waits

The wearer who would camouflage herself
behind a superficial face will muster
resistance from the dreaded bottom shelf
when flawless, creamy skin has lost its luster.

Strategic bits of plastic might extend
her fleeting fifteen minutes’ worth of glory
as frivolous embellishments transcend
the chance for character to tell the story.

She shuns the wrinkles; sages see the grooves
created in the crucible of patience
as surface grinding gracefully removes
the residue of youthful limitations.

For only in the artistry of lines
can wabi-sabi polish its designs.

2022 Mary Boren
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83

Independent /
Off the rails /
Absent-minded /
Twice-told tales /

Leaky plumbing /
Creaky knees /
Toenail fungus /
Cottage cheese /

Diabetic /
Lows and highs /
Medications /
Exercise /

Pertinacious /
Battle scarred /
Scooter wheelies
In the yard /

Hard of hearing /
Booming voice /
No pretenses /
Still my choice /

Hunky hubby /
Silver-haired /
Dauntless spirit /
Love unspared /

2022 Mary Boren
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Circular Curriculum

We only have, on average, the span
of eighty-seven years to mount a quest
for wisdom steeped in life. The lesson plan
is stacked against the odds we’ll pass the test.

For some, the obstacles occur at birth
before the child has drawn a second gasp
and never cease, while others’ inner worth
is nurtured from the gate to final grasp.

But if distracted by the siren call
of fame and fortune, don’t expect to reach
the summit of serenity. The fall
of hubris supersedes us in the breach.

And any course curtailed before it’s done
will be extended for another run.

2021 Mary Boren
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In Due Time

(with apologies to George Bernard Shaw and Robert Herrick)

You tell us youth is wasted on the young,
that we must gather rosebuds while we may
lest fragile opportunities be flung
like flotsam on the canvas of decay.

With body toned, thick hair and creamy skin
commanding adulation from the masses
the pattern of predominance will spin
its own cocoon around the rugged passes.

But I submit the opposite is true.
It’s adolescent angst that stands in need
of energy to busily pursue
agendas misdirected to succeed.

For only at an age when pride is purged
can artificial values be submerged.

2021 Mary Boren
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Leaping the Heap

When I’m stuck in the trap of malaise
and self-pity flares up in a blaze,
I am forced to concede
that for lightness and speed
this old body has seen better days.

But my spirit’s not bound by the hide
that is holding my fragments inside.
When the flesh is enmeshed
in itself, I’m refreshed
by escaping the prison of pride.

2018 Mary Boren
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Photo Source

Invisible

I had my fifteen minutes when
my skin was smooth and creamy
and once or twice as I walked in
heads turned around to see me.

The dimples flashing on my cheek
are thigh-bound now. My tresses
are grey and thin, my waist is thick,
my features unimpressive.

Invisible though I may be
to those who prize the surface,
my worth resides inside of me
beyond the realm where earth is.

———

2012 Mary Boren
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Fleeting

When the daily news reporter
talks about the changing weather,
that’s our cue to sigh together,
“Years are growing ever shorter.”

Store the fans, unpack the heaters;
nippy mornings grace October.
Then, before the month is over,
stock the shelves for trick-or-treaters.

Holidays in quick succession
fill the calendar thereafter.
Giving thanks with food and laughter
leaves November’s last impression.

Autumn’s vivid colors given
like a sign of nature’s sequence
fade to grey. The shopper frequents
Christmas sales, consumer-driven.

Fall, my energetic season,
though I wish you’d linger longer,
still your buried beat grows stronger
in the hope of sense and reason.

———

2010 Mary Boren
View discussion .

Old wisdom says our faces are a gift
until we’re thirty, then we each become
the author of our own. To shift and lift
by artificial means appeals to some,
but as for me, I’ll go au naturel.
The story that’s unfolding on my mug
is published line by line in runes that spell
long-overdue contentment, with a shrug
of bittersweet remorse for punctuation.
Each burst of joy and melancholy sigh
converge in symmetry on my creation
for all to see. It’s written on the fly.

———

2003 Mary Boren
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An “If” for Elders

If you can smile when met with “How ya doing?”
and skip the vain recital of your ills;
can feed your body healthy stuff, eschewing
the couch when steps can take the place of pills:

If you can reminisce without digressing,
can listen to a fussy baby squall
and, flinching, still consider it a blessing
to hear and see and taste and feel at all:

If you can watch a younger person flounder
and not usurp responsibility;
if, judging no one, pimp or pulpit-pounder,
you trust the love of God to oversee:

Then disregard the ravages of time
and take a bow, old sage, you’re in your prime.

———

2006 Mary Boren
View discussion.

Grounded

Preamble to Limitless

The looking glass reveals a creaseless brow
transposed against her face to disabuse
the notion she is aging. Truth subdues
the vision. Like her hair, her youth somehow
is running down the bathtub drain, and now
her bearing and behavior (like her shoes)
are sensible. “The mirror is a ruse,”
she sighs. “I’m just an old contented cow.”

She’d planned on parachuting once, immune
to gravity. (Weak ankles redefined
the plan.) At times she cocks her head, intent
on hearing fragments of an uncaught tune
that blink and fade like fireflies in her mind.
She can’t remember how the lyrics went.

2001 Mary Boren

Tag: aging