An Ethereal Shout

Here I am standing— over 7 decades old
Wondering if I’ll clear all the hurdles
My pace has been steady up to this point 
And my dreams have yet to curdle

I know of others in this same class
That have fallen to their knees
Their hearts, their livers, or their wills give out
No longer able to appease

The terrain gets rocky at unexpected bends
Storms stir up after making tough amends
Must breathe into pain, stretch away from doubt
Finish the race with an ethereal shout

I know I’ll swirl in the freedom of knowing
Any nagging doubts were amiss
It was really about trusting my guts lead
And never shunning the bliss

The segments of my life well lived
Will travel well beyond me
I’ll climb onto the medal stand
As the Gold is laid upon me

Now I’m a free flying spirit,
No chains of humanity bind me
Will I move up with a cosmic thrust
Or will the next plane unwind me?

We’ll see

Tricia Schwaba, 2024

The Wisdom She Holds

Oh my God! My thighs they touch

How can one handle so much? 

The norm beloved, is space in between

One’s upper legs, you know what I mean.

This quest we’re on, this path never ends

The one that is dictated by rich white men.

They make the rules, create the solutions

The quick fix ones, offering no resolution.

But we buy and believe and believe and buy

Until we realize it’s all been a lie 

On that day seeds of freedom are planted

That’s the time that release is granted

Free from the grip of society’s norm

We travel with truth into the eye of the storm

To experience the peace that is blessedly bestowed

On the aging woman and the wisdom she holds.

Tricia Schwaba Poetry

I wrote this piece when I heard, not so long ago, that women (young or old apparently) are now being encouraged to be thin enough so that their thighs don’t touch. This bothered me as much as any of the other societal “beauty” standards that circulate throughout our society. We are all different, with different bodies, ideas and intentions. Let’s keep it real shall we?
Tricia

Vintage Trish-- Thoughts On Aging-- 61 Unadorned

Let Beauty Remain

art source: Shiloh Sophia McCloud

There is often a tendency to fog the mind

Worse yet, feigning clarity the entire time

The moment comes when the fog it lifts

And lost time evaporates like Avalon mist.

The beauty in that, is when the insight hits you

Your cares diminish and you wear what fits you

No longer worried about what has been done

The focus becomes the Earth you stand upon.

Preference, proclivities, interests and love

Become actualities, not dreams stored above

Your skin holds you present, you understand fate

Can knock on your door on any given day.

With time less available possibilities seem clear

Not hindered by delays, or a doubter’s glare

The wrinkles diminish, the fabric’s laid out

Your mural is woven with life-affirming vows.

The threads, some are thicker and others don’t hold

Those with resilience are the ones to behold

The friends, fertility, the sustenance, the rations

Those textures you’ve offered in a life you’ve imagined.

Whether here for the duration or just one more day

The fog can be lifted in a myriad of ways

I’m guessing that most involve love in some fashion

And probably uncovering some long hidden passion.

Time is the question, creativity the solution

What inspires bliss and sidesteps retribution?

I shift my perspective as my time here wanes

And hope when breath fades that beauty remains.

From the archives, Tricia Schwaba, 2014

Aging With Elegance

Oh to compete with and maintain the physical beauty of youth is so challenging so I think I'll continue to rely on my indomitable wit, insight & intellect to carry me into & through the sage stage :O

Tricia Schwaba, 2019

Evidence of Having Lived

While the wisdom reflected in my eyes continues to expand and deepen so do the lines around my eyes, evidence of the many times I have laughed and cried. Really, they are, evidence of having lived.