Rest Peacefully Now

All day I face
the barren waste
without the taste
of water.
Cool Water.

Dan and I,
with throats burned dry
and souls that cry
for water.
Cool, clear water.

The nights are cool,
and I’m a fool.
Each stars a pool
of water.
Cool, clear water.

And with the dawn
I’ll wake and yawn
and carry on
to water.
Cool, clear water.

The Shadows sway
and seem to say,
“Tonight we pray
for water.”
Cool, clear water.

And way up there
He’ll hear our prayer
and show us where
there’s water.
Cool, clear water.

Keep moving Dan.
Don’t you listen to him Dan.
He’s the devil not a man.
He spreads the burning sands
With Water.

Say, Dan can’t you see
that big green tree
Where the water’s running free?
It’s waiting there for you and me.

And water
Cool, clear water.

Dan’s feet are sore.
He’s yearning for
just one thing more
than water.
Cool, clear water.

Like me I guess
he’d like to rest
where there’s no quest
for water.
Cool, clear water

Cool Water by Hank Williams Jr.

I said goodbye to my mom on Wednesday evening.  She was surrounded by her children as her breath became soft and then left her completely.   I stayed with her a while in the stillness.  She came to me in my dreams last night, reassuring me that she’s alright.  She is Loved.

Ageless?

“Phoren, I’ve got a funny story to tell you.  I saw my ex-wife the other day.  She still looks good, but she’s, you know… a middle-age woman now…”

I’m having dinner with my best friend from the 90’s.  We haven’t seen each other in four or five years and that’s probably the third time he’s used the term “middle-age woman” in the last 45-minutes.  It’s as if he’s describing someone who hasn’t bathed in six months or gained 700 pounds – as if middle age is something to be avoided like crack addiction or an incurable venereal disease. 

I wanted to see him.  I’ve grown weary of my current friends who, as we grow older, pretend like they’re living out their twilight years – “Oh, you don’t understand what goes on with the high-school kids these days.  It’s not like when we were young”, “Yawn….I can’t eat dinner after 8 pm!  I’m in bed by 9!”

I’ve been looking forward to spending time with someone who seems to have straddled the line – staying “current” even as we move into what I would call “serious adulthood”.  This, however, is not what I was expecting.  To him, any woman over 35 is like potato salad that been sitting in the sun too long – ready for the trashcan.

“Of course, not you, Phoren.  You look great (said with less than 100% conviction).”

I stare at him across the table, focusing on his Botoxed brow and hair implants, playing mental connect the dots with the brown spots  on his face from too much tanning bed.  I catch a glimpse of his diamond-studded Rolex (I’ll give him the benefit that’s it’s real) and I realize – no, this isn’t what I’m looking for either. 

Is this where I’ve been relegated – an equal with room temperature mayonnaise, day old bread and yesterday’s news – the only other option to fake it with “cosmeceuticals” and plastic surgery?  Can’t we just “be” as we are now, instead of hurling ourselves toward old age or clawing our way back to years past?    I have no desire to live like I’m still in my 20’s, but I’m also far away from beginning the descent. 

Where are my contemporaries?