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Silver (for Suzy Moore)
“How many years of beauty do I have left?
she asks me.
How many more do you want?
Here. Here is 34. Here is 50.
When you are 80 years old
and your beauty rises in ways
your cells cannot even imagine now
and your wild bones grow luminous and
ripe, having carried the weight
of a passionate life.
When your hair is aflame
with winter
and you have decades of
learning and leaving and loving
sewn into
the corners of your eyes
and your children come home
to find their own history
in your face.
When you know what it feels like to fail
ferociously
and have gained the
capacity
to rise and rise and rise again.
When you can make your tea
on a quiet and ridiculously lonely afternoon
and still have a song in your heart
Queen owl wings beating
beneath the cotton of your sweater.
Because your beauty began there
beneath the sweater and the skin,
remember?
This is when I will take you
into my arms and coo
YOU BRAVE AND GLORIOUS THING
you’ve come so far.
I see you.
Your beauty is breathtaking.
Jeannette Encinias
(Thank you to Google images for photos)
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7 Comments
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Beautiful! Great picture in words.Thanks for sharing.
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Precious, Polly, very precious. Thank you x
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Thank you for sharing this poem Polly❣️It touches me deeply.
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Polly, this poem makes me want to stop everything I’m doing and take out a large piece of paper and paint. Paint the highs and lows, the challenges I’ve overcome in the ones yet To present themselves as opportunities to learn. But most of all it makes me want to paint hope. Thank you so much for a beautiful inspiration
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Thank you.. love the pictures that it brings to mind. Beautiful
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Author
Sheilar,
Sorry about that. I have added you manually. Thanks for subscribing. Please let me know that you are getting the daily emails.
Thanks,
Polly
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