As I grow older, time is racing by, as if I am on a high-speed train barreling towards the end of my life. One minute, I am turning a page in the calendar and greeting a new month, and the next a new year is on the horizon. I find myself thinking a lot about my own mortality, and my legacy. Career, success, recognition, money- goals once so important, seem so frivolous now.
I’ll be 64 October 1st, and more than half my life is over. Every time that thought enters my head, I hear the Beatles song- When I’m 64. In my heart, I’m still that 60’s flower child.
In this season of my life, I would rather chase rainbows and watch butterflies flutter in the Spring air. This, along with my writing, is more than enough for me.
Gives us the younger folk something to think about. This is a great poem.
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Thank you so much!
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Reblogged this on The Militant Negro™.
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Thank you!
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😎💕🎈🌹🤘🌷🌞☀️💫🤗
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Rockin’ til the end… that’s my goal, too. Well put.
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Thank you!
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Beautiful!
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Thank you. So happy you liked it.
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You have a few years on me… but I know the feeling, every month is soon another year.
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I am amazed at how quickly the time speeds by. Thanks Bjorn.
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Rock on sweet flower child, rock on! ☺💜
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Yes, right? 😊💛🌺☮️❤️😘
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Yes!! ☺❤
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Great outlook!!
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Thank you. Appreciate your kind words.
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🙂
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I still feel like that 60s flower child as well when my mind talks to me. Maybe 64 is the new 46 or even 16?
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I’ll buy that Frank! Sounds great. And happy to know I’m not alone. Thank you.
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Beautiful. Chronological ages, and societal judgements, often belie how we feel within – keep watching the butterflies/
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Yes, so true. Thank you for your thoughts, and I certainly will.
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