Grow old along with me!
The best is yet to be,
the last of life, for which the first was made.
Our times are in his hand who saith,
‘A whole I planned, youth shows but half;’
Trust God: See all, nor be afraid!
On Monday . . .
I read a blog post and in that post
I clicked a link that took me to a book.
There I read and clicked another link
that led me to another book
by the same author.
I chose to Look inside.
After the title page,
after the dedication,
was “The Bird,”
a poem by Arthur Symons.
Beneath “The Bird” was
“The Tree” by Karle Wilson Baker.
Curious, I searched to learn
about Karle Wilson Baker
and I was not disappointed.
Her poems spoke to me.
One I copied into my journal.
Let Me Grow Lovely
Let me grow lovely, growing old–by Karle Wilson Baker
So many fine things do:
Laces, and ivory, and gold,
And silks need not be new;
And there is healing in old trees,
Old streets a glamour hold;
Why may not I, as well as these,
Grow lovely, growing old?
On Tuesday . . .
I read Molly’s Slice of Life;
At the end, she writes —
“I wonder if, when–Molly Hogan, “The Tale of Two Tulips“
we seek so hard to cling
to the vestiges of youth,
we avoid the glorious blossoming as well,
in all its potential messy exuberance.
Something to keep thinking about…“
Indeed, it is something to think about!
On Friday . . .
I’m still thinking
And I’m finding it to be a delightful thought–
To grow lovely, growing old,
A glorious blossoming.
Your sketch is lovely Alice as is this rich tapestry of poems, and thoughts you’ve shared with us, thanks for all!
Thank you for sharing your meandering connections. My face is wrinkling, my hair is greying, my teaching career is nearing its end…I think “Let Me Grow Lovely” needs to be my mantra!
yes, yes! a healing in old trees. sigh.
It’s a poignant post, Alice, lovely in your meanderings, so like many of us, I imagine. We find something we love, then look again, and there is another something! Your sketch is wonderful, too, perfect for that “blossoming”.
I printed out Molly’s slice and the poem you shared for my notebook earlier in the week. And how lovely to discover that you’re still thinking about growing lovely, growing old. There’s something exciting in the messy exuberance of the glorious blossoming.
Hi, Alice – I love the meanderings you shared here, and your words and sketches. It’s a welcome perspective as we all mourn the loss of a beloved poet, and as my family has had a recent loss as well. Life is glorious in each of its stages, in its own ways. Thank you!
Lovely post which makes me wistful. I love the optimism of growing older as a kind of blossoming. Thanks for sharing Baker’s poem and Molly’s wise words, and I love your pencil sketch! My Valentine’s Day roses look like that now . . .
What a beautiful progression to your poem, Alice.
I saved “Let Me Grow Lovely” from your post — thanks! I like your pencil sketch, too.