Middle age is about loss.
Clinging onto memories
as they slip away.
Standing in the slipstream
of changing times.
Keeping your foothold
in shifting sand.
Holding on and letting go.
Middle age is about invisibility.
Carrying the mystery inside
of everything that you have seen,
precious relics of things done,
testimony of a life lived.
A deep well for a dropped stone.
A secret passage
behind a closed door.
Middle age is about force.
Having the courage to keep building,
keep looking, stay curious,
shouting into the wind,
while those around you-
the imposters who claimed your world-
demand that you stay still,
keep quiet, move aside.
Middle age is about joy.
The quiet pleasure of revisiting,
the satisfaction of taking the long view,
embracing the impossible.
The freedom to know who you are
and live out your daydreams.
Seeing tired chickens
coming home to roost.
Middle age is about sorrow.
Walking in the shadows of the past,
longing for what will never be.
taking stock of dwindling time.
A repository of might have beens
Having the courage
to stare into the darkness
and retain hope.
Middle age is about continuity.
Keeping faith with the core of your being
as unfamiliar realities and fresh thoughts
fight with what you thought you knew.
Holding fast to that which is good.
A small, glistening, naked pebble
held fast in a crumbling cliff
while old assumptions leach away.
Middle age is a time of judgment.
A call to account, a reckoning.
There is nowhere to hide.