AN OLD MAN’S GOLD
The power to remember came from his pain, the ability to do more
than simply last, came with every aching complaint his decaying body cried out,
longing for the muscular pain of his past that even now, older, aging fast he
thought in his memory fueled mind he longed yet once more to overwhelm today's
age and time acquired aches and spasms one more time to make the earth open
chasms and tremble at his footsteps softly taken on forest floors as the he
that was I, in days now well gone by, walking to places where earth meets sky..
Treading among the shadowy canyons as well as the day lit greens and browns of deserts and dales where other life lived in union with but the slightest of sounds. The luxury of his human smells of effort and sweat mixed with that of running mountain brooks as he learned to take no more than his needs, leaving nothing of his passing behind for in littering the land, he learned, equaled littering the mind.
There are few better days resting on the rim of his hearts soul than those he spent breathing free air and a bit of road dust. Those places where there was no such word as must, or need, no emotion such as hate or greed. God and he talked and walked and talked more even when the walking stopped for the storm or star filled night, there was much to catch up on, much more to learn to see what truth and lies could be discerned in solitude.
Today his pain ages with every passing day and the best of his eyesight was left behind long ago, but his mind is clear, so is his soul and the shoulders where the straps of his home rested are not bent from the weight of the glaring green glow of his1600 cc home now idle but full of memory still even though it went by the wayside, never to be shouldered again, so many decades ago.
The power to live through the pain of today comes from the strength of the love he learned mixed with no fear of the untried, the unknown leading to answers grown long ago. Today’s still truth was born on the miles of memories made yesterday, walking back unbent down the road named Destination Unknown. He is sliding down the back slope now towards his inevitable end with no lament, knowing that his body’s pains will never end. Yet in his memory he holds knowledge spent to make the pain his friend. Oh yes it be so true that the memory of youth advantaged well his memories are not his living hell but they are truly to a man who's grown ungracefully old they are his finest purest gold.
© M Durfee
Treading among the shadowy canyons as well as the day lit greens and browns of deserts and dales where other life lived in union with but the slightest of sounds. The luxury of his human smells of effort and sweat mixed with that of running mountain brooks as he learned to take no more than his needs, leaving nothing of his passing behind for in littering the land, he learned, equaled littering the mind.
There are few better days resting on the rim of his hearts soul than those he spent breathing free air and a bit of road dust. Those places where there was no such word as must, or need, no emotion such as hate or greed. God and he talked and walked and talked more even when the walking stopped for the storm or star filled night, there was much to catch up on, much more to learn to see what truth and lies could be discerned in solitude.
Today his pain ages with every passing day and the best of his eyesight was left behind long ago, but his mind is clear, so is his soul and the shoulders where the straps of his home rested are not bent from the weight of the glaring green glow of his1600 cc home now idle but full of memory still even though it went by the wayside, never to be shouldered again, so many decades ago.
The power to live through the pain of today comes from the strength of the love he learned mixed with no fear of the untried, the unknown leading to answers grown long ago. Today’s still truth was born on the miles of memories made yesterday, walking back unbent down the road named Destination Unknown. He is sliding down the back slope now towards his inevitable end with no lament, knowing that his body’s pains will never end. Yet in his memory he holds knowledge spent to make the pain his friend. Oh yes it be so true that the memory of youth advantaged well his memories are not his living hell but they are truly to a man who's grown ungracefully old they are his finest purest gold.
© M Durfee
5.31.2015
Walking down that same road with you, Walking Man. Thankfully, the body isn't aching quite that bad, but there are the knees...
ReplyDeleteOddly enough Jeff, my knees are fine, my hips which carried most of the weight are ok, my organs are adequate---it's everything else.
DeleteWhen you walk it, you live it
ReplyDeleteYou know it for real Charles, find a good pain med now while you're in your 50's, you're going to really need them in 5 more years and it's best to acclimate early.
DeleteSounds to me like he's grown old quite gracefully. As to the pain.. though it may seem like a long walk, everything ends eventually.
ReplyDeleteOh shit Alice, i have not aged gracefully at all, I aged meaner like hard cheese with a strong odor. As to the end of MY pain...I have enough drugs to make it bearable. 17 surgeries, 9 broken bones, 3 broken joints, 2 rounds of skin cancer and going bald to boot. But I ain't quite ready to quit just yet.
DeleteMark, the inevitably painful aging process is upon most of us. I like the very last line of your poem-it says it all! xo
ReplyDeleteI am not complaining Jodi, but my pain is chronic, daily and now pretty much has me trapped at home. Hey the reason i am not complaining is because i am stll breathing and have not lost my will to fight.
DeleteTo an old man's gold nuggets ~ and a diamond on the side. Cheers.
ReplyDeleteDamn Erik I quit hitting that best diamond almost 20 years ago, maybe i DO need to drink.
Delete