(My Friday Fave Five post is below this one.)
I saw this poem several months ago quoted on the Facebook page of a friend’s daughter — a young woman in her mid-20s! I just loved it and set it aside to post on my birthday — today. I’m sharing it for Poetry Friday as well, hosted this week by The Boy Reader.
I shall be older than this one day.
I shall think myself young when I remember.
Nothing can stop the slow change of masks my face must wear, one following one.
These gloves my hands have put on, the pleated skin, patterned by the pale tracings of my days…
These are not MY hands! And yet, these gloves do not come off!
I shall wear older ones tomorrow, til glove after glove, and mask after mask, I am buried beneath the baggage of Old Women.
Oh, then shall I drop them off,
Unbutton the sagging, misshapen apparel of age, and run, young and naked into eternity.
So when this corruptible shall have put on incorruption, and this mortal shall have put on immortality, then shall be brought to pass the saying that is written, Death is swallowed up in victory. I Corinthians 15:54