As Old Age Beckons Poem by Valsa George
As Old Age Beckons
When I look into the mirror
And stare at my own reflection
I see a stranger sneering at me
I see the patch of dark around my eyes
I see my hair going grey
I see the blotchy skin and wrinkles on my face
It all makes me think
How rapid is the flight of youth
Once I was a bubbly girl
Full of charm with dreamy eyes
The golden vistas cheered my heart
In my dreams I scaled to touch the skies
Love vibrated every nerve
But now a sad change has come over
It all makes me think
How rapid is the flight of time
Once I thought how bright and sweet was life
Agile were my movements, could walk miles
Fatigue I never knew, supple limbs never ached
Life was a roller coaster ride
Today when I look at the young
With wind in their skirts and sunbeams in their eyes
I see the stark change that years have brought
And wonder how rapid the onset of old age is
Though my beauty has burnt away
And my bones have a brittle grate
Still I would like to hold on stubbornly
Looking at each day for what next day brings
As I still have a hopeful heart
And wish to embrace life as it comes
To make it a sweet labour of love
So I ‘rage, rage against the dying of light'!
In my mind, I often believe I am 20 forever. The mirror and my aching back quickly remind me of reality. I spent the evening today, at a band practice with friends, ten wonderful people, all at least 30 years younger than I. In one way it made me feel 35 years younger. In another, it made me feel on death's door. I wish there was some middle ground.
A well penned poem of the reality of aging. How swiftly the years subtract our youth and energy. I had never gave aching bones a thought until experiencing hip, knee and back pain more often than I would like......10
You have found the key; so no more lament. Keep the hopeful heart lighted up, full of cheers. The world around would then resonate with it. Top marks.
Your poem voices what I feel. Yours is a sweet rage, celebrating all you have had, embracing what is pulled forth each day from life's bag of surprises. Your rage is perhaps tied to sympathy for the human condition in general. As we summon up hope for ourselves, some of it spills over for others. So in one way the light keeps growing for as long as we live.
Lovely poem. Old age is something hard to deal with. Often heart feels young with dreams and impulses but soon body makes you aware of futility of dreamy flights. Still joy is in the simple living of each day. Thanks for sharing Valsa
You say, Once I was a bubbly girl. I don't say a poetess is a Barbie Doll, but I am helpless as her poems say it.
Once i was a bubbly girl! ! But today i am old. Birth and growth; answering the very ways of life. It is also a blessing to grow old. Having much stories to educate the youth. Thanks for sharing this poem with us.
You have come up with a beautiful poem so realistically composed keeping in mind the signs of aging that are visibly evident and more pronounced by each passing day, But 'As I still have a hopeful heart', there is no scope for any worries. Thanks for sharing the poem, Valsa ji. How rapid is the flight of youth I see the stark change that years have brought And wonder how rapid the onset of old age is
But your youth is still there, hidden in your lovely heart Thanks Valsa-10
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/26/2024 4:08:46 AM # 1.0.0.1119
That's a stellar! The course of life, the transition from youth to old age...you have put it all so well. Here you are speaking for every woman. Even the young ones fear the time when their beauty will be gone. But i love the ending...it shows resilience..i rage, rage against the dying of light. An absolute 10 for me.