With graceful defiance, wisdom, and a desire to age with dignity and purpose, I sat and wrote this after a meeting in which I realized my experience might not be seen as expertise but rather as an expiration.
“Let Me Age Like This”
Let me age like dusk in slow-spun gold,
Not hidden in shadows, not bought or sold,
But bold as the sun when it dips to rest,
Wearing time proudly, a medal on my chest.
Let the silver in my hair be not a veil,
But threads of moonlight, telling the tale
Of roads I walked when none would lead,
Of sowing soul, not chasing speed.
I did not trace the steps of those before,
I carved my own along the shore,
Where tides of doubt would rise and roar,
Still, I sailed, seeking always more.
This face, these lines, each one a verse,
Of love and fight, of better and worse.
Don’t look away, don’t speak in sighs,
There’s fire still behind these eyes.
For I have taught with hands and heart,
And still believe in learning’s art.
The book of life I’ll never close,
Its pages deep, its questions rose.
So when you speak of age and years,
Don’t lace it soft with veiled fears.
Speak of me as one who dared,
Who lived, who loved, who deeply cared.
Respect the rhythm I’ve composed,
The symphony that still unfolds.
Not out of touch, but touching stars,
While you’re still wondering where you are.
Let me age like this, unbent, unbowed,
With purpose clear and spirit loud.
A sovereign soul, with head held high,
A woman who still yearns to fly.
