Crossroads

The second half of my life will be black

to the white rind of the old and fading moon.

The second half of my life will be water

over the cracked floor of these desert years.

I will land on my feet this time,

knowing at least two languages and who

my friends are. I will dress for the

occasion, and my hair shall be

whatever color I please.

Everyone will go on celebrating the old

birthday, counting the years as usual,

but I will count myself new from this

inception, this imprint of my own desire.

The second half of my life will be swift,

past leaning fenceposts, a gravel shoulder,

asphalt tickets, the beckon of open road.

The second half of my life will be wide-eyed,

fingers shifting through fine sands,

arms loose at my sides, wandering feet.

There will be new dreams every night,

and the drapes will never be closed.

I will toss my string of keys into a deep

well and old letters into the grate.

The second half of my life will be ice

breaking up on the river, rain

soaking the fields, a hand

held out, a fire,

and smoke going

upward, always up.

- Joyce Sutphen

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I am looking forward to it...

Just Fade Away

Where are you going

my fine young friend
The path that you follow

has come to an end
Your journey continues

but which way to go
So many choices but only you know
The world that we live in moves quickly you see
Make your decisions or just cease to be
For death comes to quickly for those who stand still
So follow your dreams accomplish at will
So many voices will echo the way
And so many listen the words they say
And those that deny will squander the day
And slowly but surely just fade away
Where are you going my fine young friend
The honor of ages are left to defend
A trendy yet subtle approach to the day
And when you speak they will hear what you say
For age does not maturity make
The wisdom of years have all been a fake
For wisdom won’t come with the number of years
But how will you stop and open your ears
So many voices will echo the way
And so many listen the words that they say
And those that deny will squander the day
And slowly but surely just fade away
So where are you going my fine young friend

Copyright © Donald B. Dousharm 1990-2008 All Rights Reserved. http://thevertouscollection.blogspot.com/

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Just something that struck me...