Ma Cinquantaine (My Fiftieth) Poem by Roger K.A. Allen

The Ardèche and Lascaux’s caves
Walls with frisky bison filled,
Life so rich of a frozen age
Prancing antelope and hunting bear
Woolly mammoths, and tusky boar,
Plenteous pantheon,
Perpetual drip,
Of purest water and coolest lime,
Endless mix of man and time.

Yet this is all our inner world,
The hidden life without much sun.
Endless vaults for us to explore,
Some with smoky sunlit shafts,
Others dark, where rock falls of pain
Have buried the past from the light of day.
Emotion’s rainbow paint long galleries of stone,
Narrow sun-streaming shaft,
Blind lizards and chirping bats,
A waterfall beneath the earth,
Passion’s red,
Warm happy yellow,
And deep sombre painful blue.
Experience has passed my way,
Rejection’s searing pain,
Sweet love and deepest warmth of home and love,
To have seen men die and babies born,
The pain and agony,
And the smell of death.
The pride of courageous souls,
The foolishness of false religious men,
The peace and love of Wisdom’s way.
All life’s riches gild these walls,
Smokey lamps,
Silent light.

Language and books,
A yearning to know,
Childlike inquiry,
A middle-aged man,
The heavens and stars,
God’s in the cosmos,
…we all hope it’s so.

This is my inner world,
That only I go.
To some, their inner sanctum is hell,
Haunted by demons, rock falls and smell.
But from our inner caverns issues forth
from the night,
To all those around us,
Either darkness
Or light.
So what I have learned after 50 brief years?
That now I must speak out; no fear for my life
That courage is costly and better with tears,
That as knowledge expands and the
margins grow dim,
So also does doubt, and man’s innermost fears.
That a woman’s love’s not for sale
But lucky for man,
It is with a dog and he’ll stay with you
through hell.

That life’s one big paradox,
Only wisdom can tell.
For to lead one must serve,
And true gain is to give,
And in life’s bleakest winter,
Tis the best time that we learn,
To sow seed for the summer,
Until the huge harvest moon.
Now life’s richest blessing is a wife full of love,
And loving children a plenty,
A home and three dogs.
There’s Canis Minor and Major,
Vulcanus Maximus too
Who’s now eating with slobber
One of Linda’s best shoes.
So now I would thank you for your riches too,
But not only for presents,
But for the richness of you.