Life Passages by Robert Branch

An ache implies the passing of time.
My memories reply to this symptom of mine.
In my book of life I scan over the pages
And review in my head the various stages

A child in its nappy, mewling and spewing.
Mothers and friends all billing and cooing.
Childlike simplicity, uncluttered, uncaring.
Its way in the world – a life for the sharing

A spreading of wings, a testing of wills,
More sleepless nights with the same childhood ills.
More scabby knees, more broken bones,
More telling off in those world weary tones

Adolescent arrogance, the knowing it all,
The hesitant fumblings, the pride before fall,
The awareness of person, the coming of age,
The richness of youth on a well trodden stage

Careers mastered, discarded, the journey of life,
The settling down, a husband, a wife.
The addition of children, the future’s sublime,
You’re glad you’re alive in this place and this time

Mountains are conquered, the world’s at your feet,
Advancement, enjoyment, life becomes sweet
Until dawning one morning, a worrying thought
Dispels immortality, pulls you up short;

That time ambles on at its own steady pace,
Its journey revealed in the lines on your face,
The stiffness of sinew, the clicking of bone,
The slacking of muscle, the loss of skin tone.

There’s a coming to terms with intransigent fate,
A getting up early, a staying up late.
But, given the chance, I would do it again.
The what and the why, the who where and when.

Looking back on my life I have few regrets.
The scales will be balanced, a settling of debts.
And each morning brings joy in just being alive
But one morning nearer the man with the scythe.