Old age is when
later on
this day will never become part of your former middle age.
Tag Archives: age
Twenty Three Thousand Days
I have been counting the days and nights,
23,427 so far,
no two exactly the same
just as no two snowflakes
precisely duplicate a common design pattern.
Each of those thousands of days
invested in what cannot be purchased.
Therapists call this investment in health.
Mom called it love.
Educators know it as deep listening integrity.
Evangelists praise it as goodness.
Artists and their Muses name it Beauty.
Philosophers call it truth.
Economists call it abundantly therapeutic wealth,
what cannot be purchased
but can never become over-invested.
Through thousands of high purposed days
and deep ecology drifting sifting nights
no more ready for down payment
than that first invested breath,
23,427 nights ago.
Perhaps love would prefer I stop counting.
Not counting the cost
at least sounds like a more generous investment in life.
Final Farewell
Enjoy our parting day
the young girl child,
now full-grown wise Elder,
reminded me,
the brother she had taught to flex male muscle
without overbearing her Sister Gaia powers.
On this classic sun-baptizing fragrant May morning,
reflecting this same gently caressing day I was born
into earlier centuries of flowering cultures,
she prepares to leave me
perhaps forever
as the length of our pilgrimage together
grows long enough to tip more poignant hello
into operatic final exit goodbyes.
I remember what I might have felt at two,
when she joined me
inviting me into our special shared world,
loving our polycultural identities,
nondual twins since infant-fairy magic,
not having previously known
how lonely love is without her.
Now, to stare remaining years ahead
without seeing and feeling her morning through evening present voice,
facing my own ecology of each Ego identity dying alone,
inevitably without her, or anyone,
dying without incarnate memories
of unconditionally cooperative and active love.
I remember
at two or three,
toddling outdoors in my most terrifying wild ways
exploring gardens and barns
chickens and pigs and milkcow domesticated wildness,
and returning to your crib to report back
all these wonderful worlds we would welcome
if you could only learn to walk and talk
with me.
I need not say farewell
as I learn to see forward as dying
into these deep rich memories
of learning to walk and talk with Sister Gaia’s Welcome,
yet sometimes tipping, Wagon.
Chauvenist anthro-elitism
disappears as we stop over-investing in dominant negative
competitive
Yang, outweighing Yin’s more integrally inclusive flow powers,
politically and economically,
personally and as a species,
intergenerationally and cross-culturally
now under-invested in polyculturing mutual-equity cooperative investments.
What is our mutual time-investment balance on this farewell date?
Do our mutual equity values line up, match, balance, absorb any lifetime losses?
Sister Gaia’s regenerative trends
grow ever deeper cooperative equity-reinvestment designs,
plans,
policies and procedures for further self and other development
through EarthTribe Revolutions,
PolyPathic EcoConsciousness,
WinWin Life as LoveGame Health Theory.
We give evil, dissonant farewells,
nondual negative Janus-faces of Yang/Yin imbalance
power
by seeing these toxins and poisons
and personifications of eviL,
as other than absence of good
Yang/Yin balanced nutritional Co-Creation Stories.
This Final Farewell Memory
eternally coarising
Earth’s Embryonic UnFolding
of Love as stretching BiLateral Time’s Black Hole
(0)Rigin Tipping MidWay ReVolutions
Yang(+) = Yin(-,-)
ThermoDynamic Prime Eulerian Co-ReGenerative Universal Function
Intelligent ZenZero Tao-Balanced fractal RNA-iconic-ionic enlightenment
as Time’s bilaterally unfolding regenerate matters
of EarthTribe’s healthy enculturating-revolving futures.
Final Farewell
remembering my original embryonically environmental Hello,
Here We Are
together again-still
incarnating in and out,
back and forth,
up as down,
Yang-out as Yin-in.
While Autumn farewell bears time’s reputation for messy falls from grace,
this is prophesied in spring seedling beginnings
bearing message memories merging coarising births
of EarthTribe multigenerational,
polypathic,
His/Her Creation Story,
coarising nondual identities,
within Earth’s ecology of regenerate-revolving design,
seasonal praxis,
polyculturally deep enriching outcomes,
by turning down RightFisted AnthroSupremacy
to balance Left/Right Zero-Centric EcoSystemic Investment
and divestment, double-negative equivalent
WinWin DiPolarity Outcomes
ReGenerate Network Game Theory Development
of Form
from BiLateral-Temporal Prime Relational (0)-FractalFunction.
Enjoy this parting day
I have so loved beginning again together,
our mutually co-invested Creation Story.
Enjoy our continuing
final farewell day.
March Blues River
Rivers of bluesy-greyscale river
flow through her understoried gaze,
sometimes too turbulent,
occasionally too still,
even for her Elder memory stream
with sluggish circulating economy
surrounded by surface-molding
way overly-competitive political
bicameral imbalance and equivocation,
or some days it just feels that way to her,
facing windblown cold effacing light.
Nearing to her share of winter’s oceanic nurture-time,
sea’s streaming into surf’s elation
dilating over gravitas,
tidal flow streams below,
within her Great River of rivers of long-wet time
flowing yet surfing out and up
back and forth
surging heavens and slugging Others,
singing and dancing
eating and absorbing
stressing and struggling,
remembering undertow story
of WaterPlant-ReGeneration
incarnate need to flow back home again
into Earth’s oceanic flow of warm-lit light.
Back to this grey-blues suffering river,
from where this river’s story began
to flow through
her dipolar bifolding BeLovedTime
polyneural balance,
bilaterally waving within March light’s warm
cooperative-bicameral ecoconsciousness,
therapeutic-regenerate enculturing,
eco-mentoring,
frequently windy,
ecosystemic river of life self-identity,
heavy then light,
old then young again,
searching underwater mountains
of lava light’s rich regenerate reward
from whence wet-wave nutrient flow-streams
correlations
co-arising elations
as yummy balanced speed,
regenerating time as warm-love intent
EcoTime derived.
March greyriver blues
jonesing for a warm bright drama volcano,
or maybe just more low-fat granola in plain yogurt,
in front of her more comforting March
noticing nutrient streams
within wood stove’s flaming carbon plates
down below those cooling wet mountains.
Wonders of heat and time
radiate her naked face and hands
creating rivers of flowing memory
as nutrition-delivery intent
drifting grey-blues suffering Elder Rivers.
Cocktail Hour
Winter’s early evening breeze
feels and smells the same now,
as when sixteen,
except less promising
because more consoling,
contenting rather than regenerating contentious breath
of future hopes and dreams,
knowing we conspire somehow,
Earth and I,
because I feel richer to love this way,
than to breathe evening’s winter still, alone.
I am less sure this was not my last daylight
in this operatic, yet ridiculously distracted,
lifetime landscape of sensory memory.
When I was sixteen,
my understory was more of a musical-comedy landscape
that would remain forever Peter Pan young, virginal,
well…hopefully not that.
Such confidence of seeing yet another
and another, apparently endless,
pink dawn,
turning yellow,
introducing blue hemisphere,
framed by green Earth’s polycultural grasses
and monocultural asses,
which, at sixteen,
I found more amusing
than patience perdures into sixtyfour.
Winter’s now later evening silence
remembering sixteen and sixtyfour
together
over vodka-laced pomegranate.
NewPerennial Opera
Past years of lives of ages gone
yet dark shadows shaping choices,
hiding unrecognized options
waiting for their New Year ReSolutions.
Future lives unraveling evil absent
blinders
doubling over crying laughter
days of PreMillennial Futures
cooperatively over-invested in competing
to Win a race only won through losing
Ego’s monocultive face.
Past tears seeding passion’s future flowers.
Flowers tearing weeds’ proactive past repression.
Regenerating fusions
recessing degeneration’s fission,
co-arising to co-fall PolyPerennial Harvest.
Reverse-cycling trees praying through root systems
Their feathered leaves may climax each timeless day
to rest deeply ruthless shy fear of unending fear
fogging elation’s joy in timeless joy
for this ReGenerate PostMillennial Season
of ecotherapeutic deductively induced
Natural Systemic Reason.
Future years of loves of ages emerging
bicamerally enlightened form
as eco-balancing Tao function,
bilateral Time bowing Namaste
facing Elational Space’s ZenAsDay,
spirited forms emerging Time’s naturally harmonic function.
Science merging ConScience,
Transitional Generation cooperatively growing Post ReGeneration,
Physics polypathing MetaPhysics,
EcoSystems dancing 4-step MultiSystemic Therapy,
Hope faithing Active Love,
Energy revoluting Synergy, conjoined as Integrity,
Iterations evolving CoEmpathic ReIterations,
Oppositions co-arising NonDual Appositionals,
YinYin dual-dark enthymeming YangYin cosmic-logical balance,
ionic tipping points co-drawing nondual ergodic-holonic harmony,
Win-Lose Becoming resolutioning Win-Win Being,
(0) cooperative Elation radiating Prime Ego/Eco Relation
TaoTime investment regenerating RNA strings of cooperative health,
Old Year’s Eve begetting New Year’s Timeless Day
co-arising
dream embracing
TransParenting Nights.
When We Were Eight
When you were eight years old
waking to another perfect day’s dawn
what potential did you
with your autonomic intuition,
integrity of left deductive
with elder-right languages,
discover?
Who were you
as you stepped into morning’s warm spring sun,
first reminder of school year’s end
and summer’s leisurely recreation
of imagination,
role play expansion,
languishing loved laughter
replacing more challenging team sports
requiring a win-lose assumption,
and visual coordination,
of space with time
invisible to your perception.
What were you doing
lying flat on your stomach
in dutch clovered lawn’s grasses
looking down into a miniature jungle
without rivers,
forest for ants
and their insect tribes
and neighbors
and nations
and cultures,
some with advantages and risks and beauty
of flight,
landing lightly in grass-blade tree tops
as ants pursued more industrial economies
of richly nutritional value below,
sweet crystalline treasures,
jewels for their Aunt Queen’s healthy investment
in embryonic royal vocation
of developing naturally organic time,
endosymbiosis of a new generation
of flying ants,
Bodhisattva Warriors
for polytribal peace
with interminable faith
in our integrity of nature’s ecological justice.
Where was your family-owned business
of incorporating love
with truth and hope for inclusive faith
flexible enough to include boys
vulnerably drawn to other boys’ eyes and skin,
more than girls’ laughter and light heartedness?
How did you invest your perfect humid August days,
breathing Lake Michigan’s thick air,
reading Gone With The Wind
in wonder of such rich diversity
of spirit and ownership,
of integrity and entitled stupidity,
of nobility both within and despite poverty
of mendacity both within and despite superfluously competitive wealth
commodifying even beauty
and power
and nobility
and darkly rich fertile race?
Why did you love this embracing place
of multigenerational space,
your private caressing sangha farm
gardening your bicameral heart and lungs
mind and limbs in love’s familial
yet vegetative and fruit-filled embrace
so that no other place
could ever bring this organic sacred home again,
so that each other space
might ever bring this home regained?
Aging In and Out
As we age increasingly difficult
to extract from flow of Presence,
comprehending focus through holonic reflections
within without our HereNow Present,
self-awareness shrinks within cranial carrying neurionic bodies
to swell without toward diastatic soul-comprehensive understanding,
co-prehensile mutual stand-and-grabbing,
letting go of my now eldering past event,
yellow oranged brown falling leaf of grace,
to grab future generative green-full hope,
coincidentally linking peace resonant rainbowed hiatus
free-floating boundary channel,
dividing our seasons of tipping point exclamations
and bi-polarized dissonance,
confident TaoWay through permaculture’s Midway
seasons and surfs,
plantings and pullings,
fusing octaves and fizzing fractal notes contracting
redeemer hunters of risk-filled treasure seeds
sow and reap cherished spacetime’s rich pot-ential,
outial
axial cross,
as time harvests memory’s place and portion,
racing age increasingly difficult to extract from Present grace.
Old Thin Flannel
He swaddles me in soft-worn flannels
to comfort my hard-won heart.
He waters me
washed bare smooth souled
with tears of suffering
and joy.
He caves my soundless nights
with dreams from other times
and regenerating live imagined memory
as coincident
and blind intuition’s balancing
tipping ecojustice peace
flowing like soft-warn flannel across my bare swimming heart.
He frees my soul to soar,
soil dust sweeping dance
singing songs ringing resonant silence
inviting reverberation’s acute response,
our synergy
in Gaia’s karmic key of harmony.
He informs my incarnate nature’s function
to live primal gratitude
within our mutual gift identity
and transactions of perma-enculturing design,
in soft-worn flannels.
gdill52 