aging

aging again
like an old friend
i see the end
like a litte baby waving
i see the joy of rejoining
like a springtime tender shoot
i understand i'm dying
though years may separate my last
through the waters
far from here
i see the light
it smiles like a candle
it sings like a child
i know that this struggle is
silly
i know that after all
i am only a part
not apart from
all of these things that hold me
sons and daughters
wives and lovers
career and the notion
of fortune
all fall away
to the essential
I AM
so i drift inevitably
like the branch in the rush
of niagra
towards what appears to be
laughter