I’m growing into old.
Settle into chairs with a plop.
Rise out of them two-handed,
thankful for forethought of
choosing one with armrests.
There are creaks in the
coming and going now.
Sometimes it’s the cracks
in the wood—loose bolts.
Mostly it’s me, groaning.
In the effort of defying gravity,
I am grateful for movement,
even the slow kind.
More deliberate liberation
is humbly declared.
There is a beauty in deceleration.
Less distraction, more traction.
Reminders to stay low, pay attention
to where the next step will fall,
and in the falling I can,
by grace, take one more.
Some days we feel our age. Some days we act our age. Some days we are agile and have boundless energy. Blessed that today was a boundless energy day.
One day at a time Jasper. Thanks for your response.