Do Not Lament The Passing Time Poem by Michael Hunter

Time makes no concession for me,
nor does it care that I am fighting its relentless forward march.

Try as I might to ‘be in the moment',
it seems to me that as soon as I am aware of that moment,
it has passed me by and I am wondering what I may have missed!

Each day I awake and am stunned that I am already getting up for yet another week of work, when it seems like the much-longed-for-Friday had just arrived!

I share my experiences with friends and co-workers
and suddenly realize that I am speaking of events which are twenty years past -
though they feel as if they are of newer stuff.

I begin to see the march of time played out on the faces of the famous and the popular and,
either refuse to see it in my own face,
or I am looking at myself through rose-tinted glasses.

A graying beard and salt-n-pepper where dark brown was so prominent are the only signs I'm aging!
I don't have wrinkles, and my chin is still that: SINGULAR,
And while I was never muscular, I can still see definition in my frame,
in spite of my growing paunch.

But I AM getting older.
My body - the unseen parts - my bones, joints, brain, vision, and yes, memory
are all beginning to make the change that tells me I am in the beginning of decline,
and can anticipate the autumn of my life.
I am getting older.

Time does not pity me - nor does it seem to even notice I am here.
I try to redeem the time, because I know that MY time is fleeting,
but I find that I am continually being passed by the sands flowing through this mortal hour glass!

But wait - aging isn't dying!
Getting older doesn't mean getting worse!
Would I rewind my days and relive the moments of my life? Never!
I am a much better man as I am!
I am a much wiser man at this time of life!
I am a much kinder man, and a more caring man than ever I was before!

Would I dare to trade who I have earned the right to be
for one more decade, one year, one month, or day? No!
I have paid the price for my gray hair and my mellowed heart and peaceful mind.
I would not cast these gifts upon the tide of time and ages
and force myself to pay the price already paid.

I will age.
Time will continue, and I will redeem my hours as I may
and not lament the moments which pass me by.
Instead, I will capture those moments with pen and paper,
and I'll hold them captive on a page,
and thereby live forever!


© 2012 by Michael Hunter