Chronic Youth

I remember those times
I used to wake up with the cock’s crow
My grandmother would hold my hand each morning
And wash my face with soap and water
She would prepare me
For the day ahead of the hour

Her vitality on any day
Was bound to be renewed with every sunrise and sunset
Her optimism for every bumpy occasion
Added beautiful colors to her golden appearance
She was old
But it was as if
She had just stepped out from a portrait taken in the 1950’s

Yes, a portrait of her!

What if…
Those days still existed for me?
The loss of those moments
The renewal of those moments
The re-birth of those moments
And many more
Confirm a piece of her soul

She sowed in me

And what is more?
Her firm voice still echoes in my ear

Saying:
Life’s road is a sequence of stages
Every stage is a unique hurdle
We may only become wiser as we age
But youthfulness will forever remain a state of mind

Do not equate old age with decline
And youth with immaturity

As we take one more stride in this sequence
We should not forget
That, years may wrinkle the skin
Years may add a shade of gray to our hair
Years may sometimes come with trying moments

But if we keep our torches up high
And our burning fire blazing
Our souls will never be wrinkled
And our minds will forever be green



*Also visit Panorama-Blaze

~Poem by Trudy-Elsie 

05-19-10