Milestone

The event came and past. No fanfare, no celebration, Just another day in a life. A half century of living, At least it says that on this Worn beaten birth certificate. Wiser than some, more foolish Than I’d like to believe, I am 50 years old. It is a milestone in one’s life, An accomplishment that should Be celebrated...to be carried Into the future with promise. But not for me, hardly noted In passing, with a card or two. Others are feted, roasted by friends With parties lasting into the night, (Sigh)...I am 50 years old. Or is this a millstone in one’s life? A weight showing the end to That which seemed never-ending. Health seems to fail more often With small aches that last, Broken bones mending slowly and A heart, that fails to heal as fast Or as permanent as in youth. I am 50 years...old... But I still step up to the line To face the day’s challenge. Not a weak old bull On the edge of the herd, though Challenged more often as not now. Self doubt has started its furtive creep. Where once my word was inviolable, I find it under attack...even by myself. I am 50....years old. But I still fancy the ladies, Yes...I do and they fancy me or At least I fantasize as such, though I’ve more luck with fantasy than fact. Still shackled with prior burdens From which I could be freed, If I had the courage, the desire, To start again, to risk my soul. I am...50 years old So drink up my lad, take heart All is not lost, it is not the end, But a beginning to a new stage in life, An adventure into the new millennium. Face your friend in the mirror, See those warm eyes smile back. And raise your glass in salute. "Ne molesti te erodent!" I AM 50 YEARS OLD! (c) Jim       Aug/99 Written November 25th, 2001 © on Nov 25 2001 01:42 AM PST   0 • 12