By: Christina B. Barrick
Reflections on Aging
I yearn for the time of youth—
when dreams portent of things to be,
wishes dance to the heavens, and the
celestial skies answer. . . “Yes”.
But as the seasons age,
some dreams vanish—
like possessions swept by rising waters,
and so we chase after currents
that erode our sense of immortality.
Now. . .we reflect on things that could have been, and
we feel a lonely sadness
since we have lost the comfort of our
mother’s arms and our father’s comforting words.
Still, we do not grieve. . .
Rather in our hour of reflection,
we travel on solitary sails
to the memories of our youth,
which eludes us now
like a frightened butterfly
we once held in a
fleeting grasp of time.
When the evening becomes a black, midnight sky, iridescent stars appear.
When the ice-white full moon casts its glow through the window.
When the only night sounds are those of summer circadia.
When the night releases its sweet fragrance to the night.
When the sheer curtains dance with the gentle wind.
When your kisses dance fire on my lips.
When your breathing is a gentle breeze on my body.
When your scent drifts across my face.
When the dark sky fades to a gray dawn. . .
Then our desire will flutter like the wings of a butterfly.