I’m not always sure what my years are adding up to.
Perhaps I’m worried that they’re taking something away;
Something I can’t quite put my finger on
But feel slipping, retracting, and fading every day
As the inflexibility of time’s march — of this earth–
Propels me even further away.
Time propels me further down a future I tell myself I planned.
A future filled with beauty, vibrancy, and a life to be lived;
But a future away from a past that holds mistakes, dread, and regret
For what I haven’t done and never said.
I’m not always sure what my years are adding here
Within these decades that pass far too quickly.
Perhaps I know that with each day an old me is taken away.
So I pray that the new me will be
Something the old would be proud to see.
–Written by Sandy Heights
Image by S. Hermann & F. Richter from Pixabay
