I can set out again,
Even at seventy—
Just now I resisted
Writing “seventy,”
Fearing others will see
Me as less
Than I think I am
Or try to be.
I walk fast,
Dance,
Make a point
Of lifting,
Bending,
Being the go-to kid—
Happy I can,
Glad to help,
And with something to prove
To me,
Working to be needed,
Wanted,
Included,
Useful,
Not left out.
So much is behind:
Though I do not know
The time ahead,
I understand the difference
Between potential
And impossible.
But yes,
I can set out each new day
Better ready for the journey
Than I have been before;
The decades
Nourish seventy:
Years of stumbling
And years of blessings
Give a measure of guidance—
Where to explore
And where not to step again—
Offer endurance,
Acceptance,
Optimism,
Courage,
Joy
Discovering,
Embracing
New and familiar vistas
Gracing
Whatever is still to come.
