Growing Up by Gillian Viechweg

As the body transforms and bows gently to change
Instead the heart reminisces about vibrant youthful days.....
Pristine youth gives way to metamorphosis
The once upright ‘cups ‘ slide gently downward
an omen of their eventual fall.
No longer do the eyes look excitedly forward
The soldier-like formation of teeth
Now show evidence of missing ranks
The knees operate like old machinery.

Fathers are now content to remain at home
Grey hairs and grey beards belie their age
unless forcibly cranked tell their own tale
Pumps that do not function
Still there are others who seek for treasures they could no longer own

Tiger oil and tiger balm is now sweet the perfume
We now view our end in the context of our beginning.
and conjure longing for Gilead’s healing balm

Washed up, done, over the hill
are some of this menopausal, midlife refrains
Chao! – it’s only youth’s autumn loving embrace
These are the twilight years which claim honour
Wisdom which replaces vanity and sings its own tune:
‘Tis a glorious season – the sower harvests his crop
Rich and abundant are the produce of this age
The plow and the sickle suspended
confirm this is harvest time.

Copyright 2007 Gillian Viechweg