Age is that hard cold number

that starts out too hot to touch

and cools through the passing

of seasons. It’s that thing you

show off with sheepish glow

and pride at two and a half

and wave with banners and

glitter at 21. Then the magic

number pops up and you

grab it to settle age for good.

But it is not really settled.

At sixty, it becomes a polished

gem that’s hidden in the pocket

of an old coat you left at home.

Everyone knows you have it,

and no one asks to see it because

you really don’t own it. And

sometimes at a certain number,

it’s that thing that stings in the

mirror and cripples the joints.

See this is the thing, age isn’t a

thing at all. As soon as your name

became inscribed in the ledgers

of infinite life and love, all

numbers expired as you will

from one realm to the very next.

And only the words—

the words—spoken

about your life will matter.
©️Bonnie Saul Wilks