Elders

Erosive waves of time lap at our lives

Carving and crumbling

Leaving beautiful and treacherous landscapes

On our bodies and in our minds

Young fruit is

Firm, lovely, bright

But tough, sour, bitter

Ripe fruit is

Soft, sweet, heady

When our guardians transform from

Parents to elders

We must respect, revere

We must guard and protect

Everyone was a child once

Someone’s sweet baby

That spark of childlike purity fades

Then lies dormant for decades

So we can be warriors

Defend and nurture the innocents

Until something breaks

Until it’s hard to breathe or walk or think clearly

Until cells begin to mutate and declare war on organs

Then purity shines through again

We see it in the wisps of white hair laid over soft scalps

In the tremors and the velvety wrinkles

Gnarled knuckles and quivering smiles

Glittering eyes beginning to unfocus

Movements, slow and deliberate

Shaky voices humming old songs

The vulnerability without

And graceful strength within