Poetry

Poem: My Old Friend

 

 

My old friend is 97 today.

He walks slowly,

gently slides along the floor,

and shuffles with ease.

 

I follow him

at his own pace.

I learn something

special and kind

from a generous soul.

 

I learn that if you move slowly,

you can breathe

and be more mindful

of your life.

 

I learn that if you move slowly,

you can think

more gracious thoughts

and acknowledge good in others.

 

I learn that if you move slowly,

you will see people simply,

be more patient, more giving,

and develop deeper friendships.

 

I learn that if you move slowly

you will be quieter inside,

be more peaceful,

and have an open heart.

 

I follow my old friend

down the hall,

through the corridor,

to the other side,

out the front door,

and into the warm sunshine.

 

©️MFT

Freelance writer, poet, yogi and photographer from Santa Barbara, California. I write and take pictures about a variety of topics, from my early childhood in Philadelphia, to my years as a family therapist, and finally to my soul-searching years in California. The things that move me may have a humorous or serious content or both. Either way, I hope my poetry, pictures and stories resonate with you.

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