You are old now
(United Kingdom )
You are old now, your skin resembles the worn bark of the mahogany tree, each line sharing his own story of triumph and disaster.
You are old now, you walk slower, your journeys resembling sweet struggle, every step orchestrated, and you move in time elegantly to each harp strum .
You are old now, you cannot hear me like you used to hear me. You do not talk as clear as you used to talk. You nap in the afternoons, you stare out your window, with those eyes. Those dark, worn eyes a silent symphony, conducting the desired masterpiece of disaster and triumph.
You are old now, your heart sings a magnificent melody the ear cannot hear, but all those who come close can hear it. The abstract becomes tangible notes when you expel them in to the otherwise vacant air.
You're old now. You are old now. Dance.