Diminished

Trace the thin and spindly

Cracks that line your face

Not with a judging eye

Or dismissive fingering

No, see how they are

A path of your life

Brave men and women

Have walked those creases

Forging their way forward

Discovering new lands

And strange experiences

Not all were green and pleasant

But were rewarding in their own way

Even if they taught you to say

Never again

This map of your time

Shows who you are

Do not cement over them

Or fill with botox

You are not to be

Diminished

Thoughts

There is so much I like about this poem. The fact that the top of the page says Diminished 7th. An accidental music reference. The elegance of the diminishing verses from six lines to five, then four, three, two, one. Sometimes I get lucky and see these things that I had no real part in. I am grateful when they happen.

Our culture’s obsession with youth continues unabated. I see signs of hope on places like instagram where people show the reality of everyday bodies. Granted, they are over powered by the filters and the AI generated nonsense but they are there.

We are meant to be lived in. Beauty and wisdom got hand in hand. How many of us at 30, 40, 50 and beyond look back at our teens and twenties and think ‘I look pretty good but boy was I stupid’.

I know I say this from the safety of middle aged cardigan wearing comfort but please, age into yourself.

None of the people on the escalator care what you look like.