Not Dead Yet

I know in my mind that I am near the end
of what has been a good run.
Life has its limits, and I regularly bury
those younger than me.

So far, the body has been good to me.
The mind holds us. I am grateful
and honestly, do not look back as often
as I might.

You see, the thing is I am not dead yet.
Passions live. Dreams live. I look forward
far more than back, I am hopelessly curious
in how it is all going turn out,

Aware of all the history I have lived through,
and fascinated to see how it will turn out.

I have things to say. I am not sure they are new things.
But they are mine, lessons learned,
lessons proved by time and time spent
learning the wrong ones.

I have things to say. I am not sure they are new things.
Things of love and faith and the endless possibility
of restoration. Things of grace. I have things to say
about what matters and what does not

and none of it is new.

I know in my mind that I am near the end,
but my soul, young in its eternity,
still dances and sets out on journeys
it may or may not finish.

About thiis poem.

Inspired by a note from a friend of a similar age. (Hi Jim!).

The photograph was taken on Cape Cod. It reminds me of another friend profoundly touched by the book Jonathan Livingston Seagull. (Hi Joe!)