On Turning 65 - A Poetic Reflection

On Turning 65

So I made it. One year past do you need me.
I have been through the war, you and I,
And bear the scar of more than life --
There is a limping of the soul I would not trade, 
Though I have spent a lifetime, and would have spent
Another to avoid the gaining of that gain,
Irredeemable, a value prized beyond 
The infinite price. I nearly didn’t make it
Twice, you and I, but seven returns
Manifold, and prayers breach the sky.
The world is hollow and we twirl within --
So many futures I have been,
So many futures I have yet to be,
And I see the prologue in the days to come — 
Walk with me, cane or no, 
And turn a sunset into dawn,
The night is dark and full of light,
The stars like dust, sand on the shore,
We shall walk the numbering ever 
And forevermore. When half and yet half
Again I did not think that I would be
Where I am - if I could see that far 
(Glasses as a toddler, you know, the eyes
Inward more than distance searched) - and who I am,
Nor that I’d be, or how the becoming
Came to be - all that, and more, in haze -  And yet, so I moved, you and I - In children and their children years come by.
And so the time to come, the time that’s past,
​ A fog submerged, a path, a light surpassed.