Getting Older

When Old Man Age comes creepin' in,

calling me "old as dirt" or "the ancient one,"

touching my aching legs with rheumitis,

my swollen joints with "arthur-ritus," 

I could sign myself in at the old folks home,

and join the gray hairs in a rocking chair,

making everyone happy 'cept for me.

 

Somewhere between old and getting older

the also old children start their planning

as they figure out what's best for me.

No one ask what I think since thinking

is not what they see me doing anymore.

Though I be of sound mind and breathing body

what I think is not a thing to consider.

 

The plans I have are those of taking the risk

for failure is no longer a frightening thing.

Having lived with that companion all my life

it scares me less now than ever before.

There are still things to do, trips to take,

fields where being fruitful is still possible

and people who can learn from a slower one. 

 

Retiring is living on less, not, not living.

The poet said, "The best is yet to be"

and the longer the years, the more I believe

letting go and finding new is the better place

for those who may be slower, but not through

with all those things God had in mind

when He said, "I have plans for you."