SEN-ESSENCE, “on the art of aging’ published in 2010, is available on amazon. After being officially labelled “old” at 65 by the Canadian Gov’t, in SEN-ESSENCE, over the last many years, I have explored the aging process (senescence), and the attributes (essence) that make us who we fundamentally are – forever young at heart.
A Coming of Age
moves you from the center of the universe
to an ever expanding understanding
of just where you might fit in,
assuming of course you listen.
Some, like the snowdrops, enter in act one,
acknowledge an audience, and disappear.
Others, like the Hawthorne tree,
wait until everything around them blends
to the moment, guarding against trespass,
are last to leaf and first to leave.
Aging allows you to render the bark
around you as part of yourself.
Even in the shedding of mindfulness,
grey cells synapsing into the ozone,
everything meaning something closes in,
becomes important, if only to you,
and to what you are, to what you love,
and who loves you.
Some enter screaming onto a tapestry
of color that never dulls from the wear
and washing of lifetimes.
Others slip silently
into a white antiseptic wrap
their story never heard.
If you have managed to leave alone
everything that has touched you,
aging is the glue that sticks the pictures
to the pages of memories that mean the most.
Memories you cannot delete,
re-minding you of why you are here,
not just still here, in reflection
a meaning for being,
reflected in the hearts of everyone
that has orbited around your star.
Some age slowly, while others,
blossom and are gone.
Some stick like mud and harden
in the sunlight, others
a wisp of dust in a breeze.
When you reach a point
in the long deep obsidian season
of the mind, waiting to feel the reflection
of your story, there appears out of nowhere
a covey of snowdrops huddled together
in a garden of dirt brown leaves and winter wreckage,
nature bare-armed; nothing standing
between the source of light and the receiver.
a point in time where,
rather than from the internal combustion
of a dark and dis-tempered soul,
in the comfort of an all encompassing light
there appears a promissory note
in the greeting of dawn
not just another day aging along, stumbling
upon potential fulfillment
just possibly coming to term
with the aging process
a process we never leave behind
or plan for
Comes an age where we are thankful
for the oneness of the day.
Comes an age asking only to be helpful
to be of service.
Comes an age where divine spirit
flows through you in love.
Most of the photography accompanying the poems are from a photo essay of the elderly (los Ancianos) who reside around Lake Chapala, Mexico. Los Ancianos, published in 2013, can be found on Antonio Ramblés travels! Blog: www.antoniorambles.com