as skin sheds for another skin
and lips curl in a rueful smile
and veins stand in a soft sight
of green and black and blue,
i understand that blood thickens with
years that pass by through the organism
of a body, beginning to feel its own death.
as winter transfuses with the cold of
big bones, the elasticity of meek muscles
beckon a certain warmth of touch for
life, in the always prevailing lack of time.
i have seen the concentric circles on
my limbs change in half a decade,
and my eyes bloom in hues of hibiscus
and rising-rose, like a lamp, left with
a slight glimmer when the light has been
dimmed with the passing act of another day.
i wonder if my aging is my decline
(the wild image of calm & turmoil),
or is it the other way round?
© Anmol Arora
Image source (Shedding Skin Painting by Newel Hunter)
Linking it up with the Tuesday Platform at With Real Toads
HA's Place 
There are so many ways that we define aging, where our body, soul and maturity are measured. Often, these definition aren’t kind to the person that they’re being applied to. Anmol, how do you see yourself, in your heart, as you are aging?
Personally, I hope that I’m getting wiser, to the surrounding that I find myself in. Able to make informed judgment calls, which benefits everyone. Knowing, what limitations I have and use those strengths to my advantage. While minimizing my weaknesses.
I hope, this gives you, some guidance, Anmol.
LikeLike
Aging means you are still alive and breathing. This, in itself, is beautiful.
LikeLike
aging is a wonderful thing… the process of self awareness and wisdom is so enriching…more concentric circles, the better!
LikeLike
You have a most extraordinary way of turning the physicality of the human body in to poetry.
I would just like to mention, like with other wordpress accounts, your page is flagged by my antivirus program. I believe it is a result of on-click or pop-up ads.
LikeLike
Yes, it’s something to do with pop-up ads. Will check if I can rectify it. Thanks for sharing, Kerry! 🙂
The same thing is happening when I visit With Real Toads. I get a disclaimer that it’s “not secure”.
LikeLike
It’s definitely the other way around my friend! ❤️ What a fantastic poem this is, I was instantly drawn by the opening line 🙂 aging is a process we all must go through.. it is the journey from innocence to maturity .. to wisdom and to knowing oneself and one’s desires better. 🙂
LikeLike
This part is SPECTACULAR: my eyes bloom in hues of hibiscus
and rising-rose, like a lamp, left with
a slight glimmer when the light has been
dimmed with the passing act of another day.
LikeLike
I enjoyed your poem, we have so much to learn, for few of us have been old before.
LikeLike
Getting older is mos def not for wimps. It is all part of the process. As long as I am youthful in my attitude and outlook, I will be content.
LikeLike
Oh I do love how you work with the physical aspects… the limbs and the eyes and how it all changes with aging… it’s a process that can be painful… but most often the alternative to aging is worse.
LikeLike
You describe a beautiful metamorphosis.
LikeLike
There is a time, Anmol though I’m not sure when that will be. I definitively am starting through that door.
..
LikeLike
This is how I imagine it to be after biting from the fruit of knowledge and then taking bites from the fruit of life. Thank you.
LikeLike