With Wandering Steps and Slow

A poem about grandparents and growing older

Photo by on

You were never meant to grow older
While the seasons were meant to change
From spring to summer; from fall to winter–the colder
Weather was meant to be a mere hibernation
Asleep only to awake with renewed vigor, a dawn
To start the cycle of endless days

But our first parents fell in the Garden
And with wandering steps and slow they made their way
Out of Eden, out of eternity, out into an exile where the eyes
Close and never reopen again

You were never meant to grow older
But now I see you with your strength failing
Her steps almost match yours and they will
Keep growing as her feet keep growing as
Her life blooms into full color but yours

Yours?

It will fade.
The sun is already setting.

I see you two walking together two generations apart
Every minute of your time together has been grand as
The name implies
Every second of every minute more precious than we
Ever realized
Like Eve you take your wandering steps and slow
You make your way in this world
Hand in hand
A gift for now
A wilted flower; a blooming one
This moment
No less beautiful