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My eyes are going bad.
They have been good for so long.
But now, they are going bad.
Now I need reading glasses;
Just three years ago, I did not.
And the eye muscle exercises
that used to help, seem not to help
anymore.
The pages I read are filled with
fuzzy words, and frustrate me
ever so slightly.
But if I pop on those reading glasses;
what a relief.
Sometimes I tease my eyes,
flipping the glasses on and off;
Up, back, down, back.
My breathing, my heart beart
races too, at the discomforture of the contrast.
The aperture refuses to adjust
as it did, only three years before.
I am approaching fifty.
Actually, only 48 soon.
Eight years beyond my second wind.
Sometimes we need
someone to ask us questions;
because we don't stop to take ourselves seriously.
And before we can answer our own questions,
our own thinking gets in the way.
My mind is not going bad, yet.
But I suppose that some day it will.
Senility may be kept at bay
some day; by spects that we
put on our mind's eye.
Bringing our mind back into focus
may someday be a sweet release.
But I should have grandchildren, then.
And they will ask me questions,
allowing me to take myself seriously, perhaps.
Or allowing me to take myself out of myself
in to other configurations.
They shall be mine.
I shall gather them unto myself
and have my thoughts gathered by them.
And my eyes will be good, again;
for the young ones shall make them shine.
We go through changes,
Changes we go through;
Good to bad, bad to good.
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The Leaping Hope