ticks and tocks and seashells

journey from point A (womb) to point B (tasteful little urn on the mantle)

 

Time is the sea -- tumbling blue and gray ahead of me --

I dangle a tentative toe in the froth of its edge --

the water appears to go on forever, but of course,

I know that it does not.

It comes to an end.

 

Do we get to choose the sort of end we want?

a quiet and wet tumbling over the edge of the world

into cloaking and numbing darkness?

or are we carried by a great, unforgiving tsunami,

full of the varied shrapnel of our lifetimes,

bruises and blood, kisses and hugs, love and loss --

slammed against the detritus

of some desolate unfamiliar shore?

 

I am no longer standing at the sandy beach of the beginning.

I have survived the swells and storms, the dead calms

and the occasional sucking vortex of shock.

Am I closer to the place where there be dragons?

 

It is God’s little joke that I have continued to age,

and while there will be none of those golden years,

there will undoubtedly be plenty more years (fool’s gold maybe?),

working, saving, suffering, aching, losing loves and warmth

and capacities and skills and respect.

 

Will my modest dinghy simply glide in countless little figure eights at the edge

because my tough genetic history dooms me until I am a doddering 95 or so?

Do we grow too old to dream?  I am still full of dreams and many times

feel quite silly for it.  Do I have a right to want it all?

 

It is God’s big joke on all arrogant and confident baby boomers

that Wall Street drove silver spikes through our hearts

and scampered away with our money, snorting with giggles and guffaws.

 

Our kids are fighting wars we don’t believe in.

Our leaders morph into aliens once they are elected.

Technology assaults us, ravaging the sanctity of our homes,

making mincemeat of our peace of mind,

translating great books into binary code for gadgets.

 

So are we having a nice day?

Have we stopped worrying so we could be happy?

Are we patriotic enough? Will we ruin this pretty planet?

Will the icebergs melt?

Are the people in PEOPLE really that important?

What is a celebrity anyway? Why are we making them rich?

 

Don’t you wish we had saved all those old Mother Earth magazines

so we could hie ourselves up into the pristine mountains somewhere

and live simply and safely?

 

Me too.

Reviews

[Pryde Foltz]

A fantastically insightful piece. Your metaphors are great.

[annie lee]

Thank you for your review. I will return the favor as soon as possible

[Sami Khalil]

A splendid redo written by an excellent pen...Thank you for sharing all of this...:)

[annie lee]

Thanks so much. I had to really whack this one into little pieces before I could try to put it together again. But that's always a great exercise.

[Sami Khalil]

Understood . You are welcome...:)