Our Thirtieth Year Poem by Lynn W. Petty

To Mary Louise, My Beloved,
On Our Thirtieth Anniversary

I love the way your hand fits into mine,
As though it had been sculptured just for me.
With palms to palms our fingers intertwine,
Like hasps, they lock two hands as one, as we,
Ascend, yet hand in hand, our third plateau.
We stand upon this prominence we view
The intervale of thirty years and know
The best was done that could be done by two,
Whose only asset was their faith that they
Could scale that steep incline to reach this height.
Our life has been a mountain climb. Each day
One helped the other, when the other might
Have slipped and stumbled from the rake of slope.
When obstacles would seem to block our way,
Your gentle hand would guide me, give me hope,
Encourage me to firmly stand and stay.
For what would seem impossible to scale
Would often be the shadow of the real.
Discerning this, your insight did prevail.
You knew to pass through shadows would reveal
The valley, and its splendor of our years.
Our past is past the future is unlived,
It lies ahead for him who perseveres.
All we posses of time is now. Short lived,
The 'nows' will form the hills of our spent hours,
Creating landscapes that are less severe.
The georamas that we build are ours,
Green knolls and glens will be our new frontier.
The crags, the scarps, the stony steep inclines
Are buried memories, beneath the drift
Of mind. A gradual ascent defines
The second half of our sojourn. Our gift
For having paid the price; for having met
Those challenges that only we could meet.
So, come, my dear, there is no further threat,
No danger, no extraordinary feat
Need be accomplished. We have earned our right
To quaff the fragrance of the summer's bloom;
Or sit within the starlit still of night
To gaze upon the Milky Way, a plume
Of feathered light, to do what we may choose
To do, however idle it may seem.
Our world is our creation, ours to use
Until we drop this cloak, this human dream.
Now, let us walk the meadows of our time,
Or pick the flowers of our age. And when
We step upon our last plateau, the climb
Complete, still holding hands, as now, as then,
We'll view the screen of life and understand,
That this was one of many lives and climbs
That we have made together, hand in hand,
As it has been since first there were lifetimes.