Tonight I was thinking about the passage of time and how, as I am aging, there is an increasing stillness, a blurring of both time and memories. I believe that what I have experienced in this body will carry forward in some form.
into days,
I wonder to myself
how many are left for me?
There are moments in which
I cannot recall
the day of the week
or what I did yesterday,
each minute, each day
blending into the next
like paint on a canvas,
over-blended until
a grayish, brownish hue remains
upon which to paint my picture.
What was the subject?
Is this what old age is -
a blurring of possibilities
until all that remains
is a straight line
of stillness?
The clock stopped?
Forever?
That is not it.
We are simply winding down
in preparation for
the next life zone,
where our energy will pulse,
our light will shine,
and all those minutes
that have ticked away,
and all those days
that have blended together
will carry us upward
to take our places
among the stars.
Poetry by Melinda K Zarate
Read 69 times
Written on 2026-01-11 at 04:47
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Winding Down
As minutes tick awayinto days,
I wonder to myself
how many are left for me?
There are moments in which
I cannot recall
the day of the week
or what I did yesterday,
each minute, each day
blending into the next
like paint on a canvas,
over-blended until
a grayish, brownish hue remains
upon which to paint my picture.
What was the subject?
Is this what old age is -
a blurring of possibilities
until all that remains
is a straight line
of stillness?
The clock stopped?
Forever?
That is not it.
We are simply winding down
in preparation for
the next life zone,
where our energy will pulse,
our light will shine,
and all those minutes
that have ticked away,
and all those days
that have blended together
will carry us upward
to take our places
among the stars.
Poetry by Melinda K Zarate
Read 69 times
Written on 2026-01-11 at 04:47
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
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