JUST FOR THE RECORD Dale A. Lombardi When I’ve reached that certain age and you wonder about my mental fitness . . . Don’t ask me who's President or what year it is or even what month Ask me what finches are drawn to the thistle feeder or what color the fire when the hardenbergia blooms in March or how Willie-dog spent his final hours lying in the cool morning grass, face tipped toward heaven to receive the last of this earth’s sunshine as a final blessing Don’t ask me to count backwards by sevens or to draw you a clock or to tell you the time Ask me to tell you when time stood still or if I want more time or how time passed so quickly Don’t ask me to take a deep breath or to breathe normally Ask me what took my breath away or when I knew beauty so clear and pure and true I couldn’t catch my breath Don’t ask to listen to my heart Put your stethoscope away and listen to what set my heart on fire, what frayed its very edges, or when pride and awe and love nearly broke my heart open Ask me What really matters Was it all worthwhile Who I’ve loved and how Ask What binds us to all eternity What’s at the very center when all else is peeled away, What will last—really last— not anger or grief, but music and art and poetry and trees Ask me if I have hope, not for myself but for the world And if I don’t answer . . . Set down your hurry Bring me a slice of calm with some tea Then pull your chair close, take the pale wither of my hand in yours, and just sit, sit with me awhile (text as posted at this link)
(My thanks to Dale Lombardi, via Hospice Analytics and Rafter
.)The Gentle Nudge
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This poem could not speak more powerfully for the many of us given the chance to grow old. Thank you!
Oh my, made me smile and tear up at the same time. When you hear/read real truth it stops you in your tracks