FRAGILE OLD WOMAN
Sometimes I look at myself and see a fragile
old woman, returned to grasp onto
something she never had. Perhaps memories
take me back to something I never knew,
yet somehow it is close at reach…
There are times when I see a beautiful
woman, full of life and vibrant, yet not knowing
where to turn or where to look for refuge
and with that I see myself.
An old mind of memories, wrapped up in a body so much younger and alive.
The two they clash, with what was and what is, a battle of promise began in life,
I have now until to the finish, to reach what I had then.
When that happens and only then, I will be one.
I will be content within, when she has found
her return, and the young beautiful woman
will find scope to progress and live as one.
I shall be free and have peace and harmony
this fragile old woman.
FRAGILE OLD WOMAN
I am here in this time the old woman that I see in the mirror
not so old to be old, but old enough to not be young.
The beautiful girl has vanished and the dark
hair has changed it’s colour, the skin is no
longer smooth and soft, and the body no
longer firm and slim.
But I am still here the thoughts, the
memories grasping something I still do not
know what is.
Time has been hard, and life has indeed had
it’s moments but my life is still in tact.
My mind is still alive and my thoughts still
take me places I can only write about.
I have lost, I have lived, I have cried, I have
laughed, I have been and somewhere
imprinted in some stone is the cast of my presence.
I shall remain here until time no longer exists,
perhaps buried under soil or sand, perhaps at the ocean floor.
Like this stone I shall tumble and roll with the flow of
the waves at my side, waiting for a new soul to handle this moment, this journey,
this embrace of eternity.
Rhonda Hofmans Johnson