Jen Macy

Growing Up:

What does it mean, growing up?

Is it having a job?

Or having children?

Marriage?

Does growing up occur on a birthday,

the age when one can go to war?

The age when one can drink?

Does it happen when we lose a parent? Two?

Or is it something that creeps in during the night,

or on some occasion when we aren’t looking?

Is it inevitable?

Is it reversible?

On that day that I reach 80, grandkids around my knees,

can I look into the mirror and still see youth?

Or am I doomed to age and infirmity, like so many before me.

When the elders tell me: act your age, are they cursing me,

forcing me to acquiesce?

Is the power of my conviction of age-less-ness strong enough to sustain my soul,

even while time catches up with my body?

Time alone will tell, so I wait, and leave the “growing up” to you.

A Death in the Family:

Today my mother died, or did she?

We have reached an impasse,

cannot agree to disagree.

Like the celebrated rock and the hard place,

neither will budge, neither will relent.

So what use is there, all effort is in vain.

Today my mother left.

Will I miss her? I don’t know.

But one day my mother will die. And will I be sorry that

neither would budge, neither would relent?

A Limerick:

You are the best invention,

Made with the best intention.

So cold and delicious,

And even nutritious,

Beer is our favorite libation.

Another one:

They say archaeology stuff,

Is better when done in the buff.

When the sun gets high,

Your weenie’ll fry,

But don’t worry, that makes it get tough!

(I wrote that one a couple of years ago, during my “limerick phase”, then couldn’t forget it!)

Haiku:

Bright blue eyes, topaz.

Tiny fingers enclose mine.

My heart sings of love.

A Love Poem

I cannot help but hold you

touch you

feel your warmth upon my skin

Like rose petals swirling in the breeze

you engulf my senses

my eyes

my ears

my lips

My eyes wrap around your small form

more deeply than arms alone ever could

My ears strain for a murmur

a coo

My lips long for the soft sweetness of your cheek

your hair

I am caught up in the essence of you

the wonder of your existence

I could live in this moment

so tender

so fleeting

forever