the descent

Age writes her name across
     the skin that covers my thigh,
And tells her story in the lines
     deepening over my face.

Age-
     her gentle picture spreading
From the crevices that carve
     their way into my youth.

An ancient tale repeated
      for the sake of timeless glory
Echoing thru creation – ending all that began,
      to free the life that comes anew.

From my loins came children
      to further the stream of breath
For another – the Other,
      and in them is written the history.

Relieved and released to the void
      all count of remaining heartbeats,
I turn thought to the deeper journey-
      these eons traveled already.

And, watching Age delicately
      remove springtime from my bones,
I meditate upon Transcendence
      of the spiral dance of mortality.

Barbara Reed