That ‘Monday morning’ feeling can sneak up on a person. Blues breathe their fumes all over the day, leaking into the rest of the week.
Maybe I’m feeling my age. A body’s aches and pains pave the way to pivotal thinking.
A new week begins and life moves on. There is no way to grasp back time.
Maybe I’m more aware of my mortality.
This life spans out with defined end points. A gateway to the grave.
And I am hungry to redeem whatever time is left. Capture the essence of it all.
Be aware of each precious moment.
Live with an attitude of gratitude.
Listen to my life.
“Listen for him. Listen to the sweet and bitter airs of your present and your past for the sound of him” ~ Frederick Beuchner
Hear Holy Spirit speaking. Sense His whispers on the wind.
Heed the call to live life as fully and freely as possible.
Because each breath and each day is gift; every moment is grace.
And I know I need to be ready to embrace change ~ even as I cling to God’s grace to let go of familiar.
‘Time’
Centuries chronicle events in cement
Hours herald a pause, point, purpose
Rivers run into tides of transformation
Omega opens a final pathway to tread
No mere mortal can stem the flow
Old originating in the new, ad infinitum
Seconds, seasons and sadness signal its passing
©JoyLenton2014
‘Chronos’
Time on the move
a barely perceptible stream
which goes before
flows in-between and after
time as the future
passing through the present
and becoming the past
sequential and eventual
sliding on fast
to its final descent
©JoyLenton2014
“There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under heaven” ~ Ecclesiastes 3:1
How do you feel about redeeming the time and making the most of the moments?
Poetry Joy 
Thank you my friend, I am proud to be able to read the writing on your article!
Thank you, Gede. I am blessed by your visit! 🙂
Hi Joy,
Your writing today is very deep …and we ponder. Your words are ever-so-true. Time passes leaving us with bitter-sweet feelings. Although we eagerly await that moment in time when we are united with our Savior, and see His face and know His gracious welcome into eternity with Him, we don’t know how to say good-bye to the blessings of family, the joy of grandchildren, the miracle of new-born great grandchildren…and we are saddened. It is not that we cannot grow old gracefully: I believe we do. It is more likely that we cannot or are reluctant to accept that which we cannot change, about growing old. I know what you mean about becoming more aware of our own mortality. On Christmas morning, I was hospitalized as a result of a serious physical event which brought me very close to that exact awareness. The Lord is gracious, though, and allowed a complete recovery…and I thank Him for His love.
I am sending you a poem I wrote when I was 34 years old and working in administration in a Nursing Home in Connecticut…I saw the patient’s struggle, anger, frustration, and ultimately concluded a hope that I have decided to choose because I know the man from Galilee who made my life what it is today, in Him.
I NEVER BARGAINED FOR OLD AGE
I never bargained for Old Age. Wrinkles –
Droopy jowls
Blurred vision and the like
But here it is
Falling boldly upon my face
Stamping its name, coldly – then
Smirking – laughing
Crotchety? Forgetful? Hard of hearing?
“Eh! What did you say, Sonny?”
I never bargained for Old Age. Slipping in insidiously
I never said O.K. to this deal
We never shook hands over it and agreed – No
It just stomped in boldly and coldly
Took hold and…Wiped out the YOUNG DAYS
As though it had the right – I never said it did, but, here it is
And now?
I have to cope with this…as though Life’s Struggle were not enough
To mold – and – to refine
I find this Unwelcomed Guest
Racing around my bend
It’s Old Age!
There at my door greeting me with its own Inimitable Stance.
Just there…Dare I befriend this Stranger?
Dare I not?
To fight this inevitable caller will drain me of whatever energy remains.
Perhaps, then, I’ll embrace Old Age, this unfamiliar cloak of time,
Life’s Dome,
And sing old age it a lullaby
carol castagna (c) Oct. 2012
Hi Carol, yes I guess this is a bit deep for the beginning of a week. Though such thoughts occupy me at intervals. This is an insightful reply. I can especially relate to, “It is more likely that we cannot or are reluctant to accept that which we cannot change, about growing old”. So true. If we could only maintain healthy, active bodies alongside the appearance of wrinkles and grey hair, it might be easier to accept those changes.
I love your poem. It’s wry humour certainly strikes a chord! As an ex-nurse I remember the sad poignancy of caring for the elderly and how far off it felt at that stage of my life. Now, with the arrival of my first grandchild and with a body that has aged before its time due to many years of chronic illness, I see things a little differently.
But we have hope. Not only in this life but also in the one to come. There’ll be no stopping me from living life to the full in my resurrection body! Bless you for visiting and taking time to leave a lovely comment. I really appreciate your contribution. Thank you. 🙂 x
I often write in a very deep manner myself, Joy, so please know that this is just a comment and certainly not a criticism. I think we may be living a very similar life what with history of Pentecostal childhood upbringing and chronic pain and a very sensitive way of expressing ourselves in writing…I always enjoy reading your poetry, Joy ! and love the name POETRYJOY!! God bless you, today and always.!!
Yes, it does sound like we are living fairly similar lives. Though my introduction to faith came through Pentecostalism, it was entirely God’s doing and at odds with a largely atheistic upbringing. Chronic illness and pain have been hallmarks of my life for many years now and I am sorry to hear you struggle in the same way. Thank you for the vote of confidence in my work, Carole. It is my aim to seek joy in adversity and look for the poetic in the prosaic. May God fill your life with His healing and restoring grace. Blessings, my friend! 🙂 x
Hi Joy,
Your thoughts, today, are deep…and we ponder. Your words are ever-so-true. I believe that we grow old gracefully but have difficulty accepting what we cannot change about aging. I understand perfectly what you say about our own mortality; I am 69 years old. Even though we know that eternity awaits us, we are hard-pressed, in our human condition, to leave loved ones and the joy that each one brings to us. We don’t quite know how to say ‘good-bye’ to someone we have known and loved for a life-time.
On Christmas morning, I was hospitalized for a serious physical event which made my own mortality very real to me. The Lord brought me through with complete recovery and for that I am indebted to His love and grace. The Lord promised that He would be near to us in old age. We will trust His Word according to His promise. Carol Castagna
I am sending you a poem that I wrote when I was 34 years old, working in administration in a nursing home. I witnessed the patient’s struggle, frustration, and hopelessness. I wrote this poem because I choose to find hope in the promise of life eternal and I believe that His promise is true. What we suffer here, on earth, is but a snippet of grief compared to the joy we will know in our heavenly home:
I NEVER BARGAINED FOR OLD AGE
I never bargained for Old Age. Wrinkles –
Droopy jowls
Blurred vision and the like
But here it is
Falling boldly upon my face
Stamping its name, coldly – then
Smirking – laughing
Crotchety? Forgetful? Hard of hearing?
“Eh! What did you say, Sonny?”
I never bargained for Old Age. Slipping in insidiously
I never said O.K. to this deal
We never shook hands over it and agreed – No
It just stomped in boldly and coldly
Took hold and…Wiped out the YOUNG DAYS
As though it had the right – I never said it did, but, here it is
And now?
I have to cope with this…as though Life’s Struggle were not enough
To mold – and – to refine
I find this Unwelcomed Guest
Racing around my bend
It’s Old Age!
There at my door greeting me with its own Inimitable Stance.
Just there…Dare I befriend this Stranger?
Dare I not?
To fight this inevitable caller will drain me of whatever energy remains.
Perhaps, then, I’ll embrace Old Age, this unfamiliar cloak of time,
Life’s Dome,
And sing old age it a lullaby
carol castagna (c) 10/2012
I think we can only write from where we are and this was where you were today. Deep? Yes, but deep is good. I appreciate your depth. I feel the layers that you paint. And there is a wealth of information in them. Thanks, Joy.
Anne, thank you for this encouraging comment. It’s so true that “we can only write from where we are”. I really appreciate you visiting! Blessings 🙂 x
Beautiful, Joy. Just the deep breath I needed this afternoon too. 🙂
Thank you for stopping by, Eileen. It’s good to see you! Blessings 🙂
Hi Joy,
Thank you for your beautiful, thoughtful piece. I have been reflecting on time myself, especially with my birthday next week. It seems to be something I do each year, reflecting on what has and hadn’t happened over the last year.
I also love the verse – ‘But each day the Lord pours his unfailing love upon me, and through each night I sing his songs, praying to God who gives me life.’ Ps 42:8 NLT
Hi Anita. Birthdays tend to lend themelves to introspection and reflection, don’t they? Years have a way of sneaking up on us as a reminder of time passing and what may be left outstanding in our goals and dreams.
I hope and pray it will be a source of celebration for you too! Thank you for sharing this lovely verse with me. Each day is a gift from the giver of life Himself. And we can be reassured that His love and mercies never fail! Blessings 🙂 x