A Poem for Turning 55

Well, I have not been on my little blog site since September, so thought it was time to post something I have been working on over the past week.  Still a work in progress.  I originally was going to title it What My Hot Flashes Teach Me,  then changed it to Morning Mirror, now it is just untitled for the moment.

Domain without dominion,                                                

this body as I age.                                                           

I startle at my reflection,                                                

in recognition of                                                           

a “me-ness” that abides within that cage                       

no longer new.                                                           

What a breath-stopping moment

as I become aware

that memories now stretch  longer than

the road which lies ahead. 

Exhaling, holding my own gaze, I stare:

no longer young.    

Yet passions long neglected

need nothing but a choice.

Ancient desire and nascent fire,

inchoate, they arise,

seek form, and now demand to have a voice,

no longer mute.

Sight will dim and sinew thin

as bars of cage must rust.

But in this moment, in this breath

is all.  Enough.  Today

I write the poem of pulse, before the dust.

No longer lost.