Life at my sith decade, the unfolding of an old mans youth--

Creativity allows for the full expression of the soul in full realization, like daisies on summer grass, like hemispheres of snow in midnight winter. These seasons contrast with my life, my fullness of maturity, the essence of growing older. I grow into my senior years.

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Knowing how to look retrospectively through sixty-two years of life, into one's past, allows me the advantage of living in the present and looking through the tunnel of years. I am not old in this seeing, but young as my body belabors sodden space with weak bones. My body is used, but my spirit unfolds on the brink of being an old man like a child aghast with youth, the silver hair, the marks of years, sifting through my solitude, my days alone and innocent. My own partner and best friend, this woman who has saved my life until I could walk. I approached death three times to become a butterfly, which I am figuratively, and into oh life.