I was immediately drawn to the piece because of the title, friend.
*Grieving: A Poem on Aging.*
You had me right there.
Being on this side of fifty myself, I know the gray hairs. I know the white showing up in the beard. I know the bones that ache a little longer than they used to. There is a strange thing that happens as we age. We spend so much of our youth looking forward that we never imagine the day we will look back.
As I read, I found myself thinking that this isn't really a poem about aging. It is a poem about surrender.
The lines about grieving what you never had and wishing you could go back with the knowledge you possess now landed deeply for me. There is a particular grief that comes with maturity. Not simply grief over mistakes, but grief over possibilities. The roads not taken. The things we thought would happen that never did. The versions of ourselves we imagined becoming.
Then you move into all those goodbyes.
What struck me was that each goodbye seemed to be releasing an old way of searching for worth. Attention. Validation. Being noticed. Being admired. Being chosen.
And then this line:
> "In reality, these were just grasping of the wind"
I actually stopped there for a moment.
Because isn't that what so much of life feels like in retrospect? We spend years chasing things that promise substance only to discover they dissolve when we finally catch them.
What moved me most, however, was where the poem ends.
The image of the weeping willow is beautiful.
The tears are not wasted.
The things carried.
The things buried.
The things grieved.
They become roots.
And from those roots comes shade for the weary, empathy for the lonely, wisdom for those still trying to find their way.
As I sat with that image, I found myself thinking that youth wants fruit, but age begins to understand the value of shade.
When we are young, we want to accomplish. As we grow older, we begin to care more about whether someone can rest beneath the branches our lives have grown.
And then those final words:
> "And you will learn that it is okay to, just be"
That felt like the destination of the entire poem.
Not striving.
Not proving.
Not chasing.
Just being.
Thank you for sharing this, friend. It felt less like reading a poem and more like sitting beside someone who has walked a long road and is finally making peace with the journey.
Thank you so much for these words Kevin, they rain truth. Yes, surrender. You are spot on. And yes, my goodbyes were indeed searching for worth . . . And AMEN to when you said, "As we grow older, we begin to care more about whether someone can rest beneath the branches our lives have grown." If that is not wisdom and the Kingdom of God. . . . Thanks for sitting in this poem Kevin, means a lot. Blessings, Ashley
I think that's one of the gifts of poetry. Sometimes we don't fully realize what we're saying until someone else sits beside us in it for a while.
I'm grateful your poem invited me into that space. It left me thinking about the kind of person I'm becoming more than the things I'm accomplishing, and that's a gift.
Praying there will be many who find shade beneath the branches of your life.
Ashley! Sister, excellent thoughts. Paul modeled this raw, beautiful trading of fleeting youth and worldly wind-grasping for the enduring glory of Christ. Your tears are producing a deep, sheltering willow of holy empathy and wisdom for others. Weep freely, stand secure, and just be in His sufficient grace. 🏔️🌲⚡ love the artwork raw and captivating 🔥🔥🔥🔥
Ahhh thank you! I appreciate you taking the time to comment. Sometimes poetry can be a hard one to respond too…. so many layers and depth between those lines. I definitely had a broken past… that led to decisions that were not the most wise… that were indeed chasing of the wind. THANK YOU… it is nice to have the “permission” to weep freely. Sometimes as christians we feel like we have to have it all together, NOT THE CASE! LOL. But as we weep, we hover under, in, His grace. Amen to amen. I know, @Clairefully is an amazing artist! SHE HAS A LOT OF GOOD STUFF!!! Blessings “The Dead Servant!” I appreciate you!
You most welcome! I love reading your writing as well you are a blessed wonderful soul! Substack is a better place with you on it! Keep this fire 🔥🔥🔥☀️ blessings 🔥🔥🔥Thank you I will take a look at her page. 🔥🔥🔥
Ahhh amen!! Yeah, she is goooood stuff! OH and I think I said this, but if not, make sure you tell me when you post an article. I turned off notifications cause my inbox was like BOMBING!! Lol.
Ashley! Your poem brought me to Genesis 1:14, where it tells us how God created time:
"And God said, “Let there be lights in the vault of the sky to separate the day from the night, and let them serve as signs to mark sacred times, and days and years,"
Yes! Time is created. Yes, it is a part of God’s creation, and it is beautiful!!!
Time is beautiful.
God is unbelievably wise and loving, unbelievably intelligent. I n t e l l i g e n t.
He holds every single experience on His shoulders and in His heart—yours, mine, his and hers. He holds our time. He holds our pain, traumas, our past, and our future. He knows our deepest desires and dreams. He is the teacher in time. Teacher through time and of time.
But He is the One whose experience we are not able to understand. We just can’t. He has seen too much (“…Amongst the eyes that have seen too much…”).
I love that artwork!! So talented!!
Yes, Claire did such a good job!!!
I was immediately drawn to the piece because of the title, friend.
*Grieving: A Poem on Aging.*
You had me right there.
Being on this side of fifty myself, I know the gray hairs. I know the white showing up in the beard. I know the bones that ache a little longer than they used to. There is a strange thing that happens as we age. We spend so much of our youth looking forward that we never imagine the day we will look back.
As I read, I found myself thinking that this isn't really a poem about aging. It is a poem about surrender.
The lines about grieving what you never had and wishing you could go back with the knowledge you possess now landed deeply for me. There is a particular grief that comes with maturity. Not simply grief over mistakes, but grief over possibilities. The roads not taken. The things we thought would happen that never did. The versions of ourselves we imagined becoming.
Then you move into all those goodbyes.
What struck me was that each goodbye seemed to be releasing an old way of searching for worth. Attention. Validation. Being noticed. Being admired. Being chosen.
And then this line:
> "In reality, these were just grasping of the wind"
I actually stopped there for a moment.
Because isn't that what so much of life feels like in retrospect? We spend years chasing things that promise substance only to discover they dissolve when we finally catch them.
What moved me most, however, was where the poem ends.
The image of the weeping willow is beautiful.
The tears are not wasted.
The things carried.
The things buried.
The things grieved.
They become roots.
And from those roots comes shade for the weary, empathy for the lonely, wisdom for those still trying to find their way.
As I sat with that image, I found myself thinking that youth wants fruit, but age begins to understand the value of shade.
When we are young, we want to accomplish. As we grow older, we begin to care more about whether someone can rest beneath the branches our lives have grown.
And then those final words:
> "And you will learn that it is okay to, just be"
That felt like the destination of the entire poem.
Not striving.
Not proving.
Not chasing.
Just being.
Thank you for sharing this, friend. It felt less like reading a poem and more like sitting beside someone who has walked a long road and is finally making peace with the journey.
Thank you so much for these words Kevin, they rain truth. Yes, surrender. You are spot on. And yes, my goodbyes were indeed searching for worth . . . And AMEN to when you said, "As we grow older, we begin to care more about whether someone can rest beneath the branches our lives have grown." If that is not wisdom and the Kingdom of God. . . . Thanks for sitting in this poem Kevin, means a lot. Blessings, Ashley
Ashley,
Thank you, friend.
I think that's one of the gifts of poetry. Sometimes we don't fully realize what we're saying until someone else sits beside us in it for a while.
I'm grateful your poem invited me into that space. It left me thinking about the kind of person I'm becoming more than the things I'm accomplishing, and that's a gift.
Praying there will be many who find shade beneath the branches of your life.
Ashley! Sister, excellent thoughts. Paul modeled this raw, beautiful trading of fleeting youth and worldly wind-grasping for the enduring glory of Christ. Your tears are producing a deep, sheltering willow of holy empathy and wisdom for others. Weep freely, stand secure, and just be in His sufficient grace. 🏔️🌲⚡ love the artwork raw and captivating 🔥🔥🔥🔥
Ahhh thank you! I appreciate you taking the time to comment. Sometimes poetry can be a hard one to respond too…. so many layers and depth between those lines. I definitely had a broken past… that led to decisions that were not the most wise… that were indeed chasing of the wind. THANK YOU… it is nice to have the “permission” to weep freely. Sometimes as christians we feel like we have to have it all together, NOT THE CASE! LOL. But as we weep, we hover under, in, His grace. Amen to amen. I know, @Clairefully is an amazing artist! SHE HAS A LOT OF GOOD STUFF!!! Blessings “The Dead Servant!” I appreciate you!
You most welcome! I love reading your writing as well you are a blessed wonderful soul! Substack is a better place with you on it! Keep this fire 🔥🔥🔥☀️ blessings 🔥🔥🔥Thank you I will take a look at her page. 🔥🔥🔥
Ahhh amen!! Yeah, she is goooood stuff! OH and I think I said this, but if not, make sure you tell me when you post an article. I turned off notifications cause my inbox was like BOMBING!! Lol.
Ok will do blessings my sister 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥
Ashley! Your poem brought me to Genesis 1:14, where it tells us how God created time:
"And God said, “Let there be lights in the vault of the sky to separate the day from the night, and let them serve as signs to mark sacred times, and days and years,"
Yes! Time is created. Yes, it is a part of God’s creation, and it is beautiful!!!
Time is beautiful.
God is unbelievably wise and loving, unbelievably intelligent. I n t e l l i g e n t.
He holds every single experience on His shoulders and in His heart—yours, mine, his and hers. He holds our time. He holds our pain, traumas, our past, and our future. He knows our deepest desires and dreams. He is the teacher in time. Teacher through time and of time.
But He is the One whose experience we are not able to understand. We just can’t. He has seen too much (“…Amongst the eyes that have seen too much…”).
Beautiful! 🩵
Thanks for sharing!
Brigita
Thank you sweet Brigita!
Thank you for the mention, Ashley! Glad you enjoyed that piece. Lovely poem--and picture of the willow tree, too.
Thank you!