Early morning after a restless night,
I walk above the beach. Old age hammered
by hard rain, cold wind, dark sky, alone.
Nature closes around me, embraces me,
sequesters meditation amidst daydreams
as I smile, hum an old song.
On this day, I wonder if my foggy vision is true:
I am in the final seasons of my life, growing
celebratory as thick clouds shroud my nirvana
Mindful memories haunt me: mountains climbed,
wild rivers ran, amazing people touched my life
even when what matters most is at the mercy
of what matters least.
Humming as I wander, not lost but not knowing where I am.
Fearless reverence for life allows gentle hope to intervene
within my dark skepticism, illuminating the possible.
I cherish peace; gods and demons be damned.
Still humming, smiling, finally knowing where I am.
—
On a jog through Central Park, New York City in the late 1970s, I had a brief encounter with composer Paul Simon, who wrote “Slip Slidin’ Away.” I thanked him for his music. He, in turn, thanked me for listening.
—
Note
January 16, 2024
Nelson, NZ
I went to Live Poets tonight. About 20-25 poets, young and old, men and women. They all read. Small café. Good sound system. I was the only foreigner. They invited me to read at the end. “Slip Slidin’ Away” was my choice. Took my time, even sang, couldn’t believe it, wonderful experience.
Thank you Steven for this poignant reflection. Your words shine light on a place many will stand, if we’re blessed with long lives and the opportunity to share wisdom.
Steve, a brief thought that came while reading your poem: If we can accept that we do not know where we are, then we are exactly in the right place. Blessings, -Darrell