I'm living in the midday of my life.
The textures have all changed,
edges blurring from the careless
hand of time, a sloppy paintbrush
on the angles of my face, my form;
the stranger in the mirror
does not show the sparkle
burning in my spirit,
deep inside, untouched,
untainted by the waters
flowing deep beneath the bridges
I have crossed to get to here.
The subtle darkness in my hair
is overwhelmed by silver,
I have been crowned in moonlight
where darkest night once ruled;
as eyes that rival
limpid woodland pools,
a smoky peat all shot with gold,
are hidden under glass. So changed
still yet unchanging. I sit and wonder
where have I gone, when did I go away?
When did the “snap, pop, crackle”
in my joints become a stab of pain?
When did my fine young fury
become a gentle smile
just like those of adults
who did not understand?
The answer dances just ahead
of where I stand today and yet
it is not sadness makes me cry
it is the times I did not say
I love you. I shall no longer
waste my hours looking in the corners,
at the ground, instead of reaching
for the stars that are my birthright;
I shall stretch, shall set those joints
to creaking, embracing life and love
and living in my midday
with all my wild young heart.
Midnight Clarity
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/living-in-midday/
