Mar 13, 2015 Teaching and Learning

Room

A poem by Vijaya Sundaram

©March 13th, 2015

Pearl-white and luminous

Shadowed in light,

Misted with kindness

Age comes to me,

And shadowed things drive the air

Back and forth, behind her.

And spirits stand in wait.

Purple and grey and silver

They flock around her,

And she looks at me,

Hand outstretched.

I take her hand, and

Find myself change, as I

Dissolve into silken mist.

She slips me on

Like queenly raiment,

And shrugs the last of me

Onto fine-boned shoulders,

Ready to sprout wings.

Feel the weight

Of the years grow light

And settle into new spaces

Around her.

Feel hips mould themselves

Into the stage past

Child-bearing, and there is lightness

Within hollowing bones.

The blood flows thinly,

Closer to the surface of things

Tears collect behind the back of eyes,

Damming them,

And then drain back into sluices.

I taste them, and remember

Thalassa, thalassa!

Oh, it’s not sorrow

Nor is it regret.

It’s simply

Being here, being alive,

Being happy, being sad,

Being good, being bad,

Being kind, and learning

To be kind.

It’s about pleasant things

And unpleasant, and

About leaving behind insults

And leaving behind scrapes

And leaving behind anticipation

And leaving behind heart-ache,

And leaving behind all those

Passing folk, shadows to my own.

We pass each other,

They and I,

Cocooned, shrouded in our

Own fog, eyes up or down, or

Gazing all around,

Going on our separate ways.

And so, Age slips me on

And I collect in folds around her,

Silken, thinking,

So much room to grow into!

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Tags: #Birthday, Age and Aging, Growing older