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There Be Oz
“Common folk live and die unnoticed. Folks of any
worth are the unusual ones.”--Scarecrow
As
the winter
of my life
slogs along,
and I
approach the
Exit, the
Entrance
is 76 years
behind me.
Even
the maternal
portal
was closed
for business
eons ago.
The actual way
to Transition,
beyond the veil,
is not paved
with yellow bricks.
Glenn Buttkus
Quadrille
Posted over at d'Verse Poet's Pub
21 comments:
I am a few years behind you, but there are days where I feel that those yellow bricks are just an illusion...
Ah...you only have three years on me, my friend. Your ending here reminded me of what our Aunt Flo used to say --- she was a Commander in the US Navy in WWII and worked with Admiral Nimitz . . . "Old age isn't for sissies!"
A wistful quadrille, Glenn. You are a bit further along the way than I am, but I can already feel the winter of my life in my bones. I’ve never seen yellow bricks outside of Oz.
An oil can is very useful though...
I've always been afraid of anything "wizard of oz-ish". As a child, the movie only conjured up feelings of doom and powerlessness for me. I know, I'm weird.
I think your path will be whatever colour you paint it, my friend....and here's to not needing it for a very long time.
Here I stand, under the rainbow, wishing my brown, muddy road were more brickly paved. No matter; as long as I have something good -- like this poem -- to read along the way...
I love that opening quote, Glenn, and like the analogy you build here, wonderful wizardry.
You're all children to me! I'm beyond the bricks and treading air! Enjoyed the poem, Glenn.
It’s been no road of yellow brick
that I’ve had on my way
but, disregarding politics,
I haven’t been dismayed
79 for me .... hoping it's paved with rose petals bottles of champagne! Cheers.
Nice poem about reflecting on one's mortality.
Interesting take on the prompt Glen. I say, being dead is not a problem, it the process of dying that has me concerned!
Reading your fine piece, I thought of Basho the 17th century Japanese poet - who set off in his dotage on a hike - The Narrow Road to the Deep North. Knowing he'd probably never return to his home he said something like if you steer a boat or drive a horse over the earth, then you are a traveller and you will succumb to time. Oddly, I found that, like your poem cheering.
This is so real. I felt like I was experiencing life through your eyes, Glenn.
Yours,
David
This was very moving, Glenn.
Self-identify as an immortal. I self-identify as being 36. It's worked fine so far.
Keep rocking, good sir! This was very moving. It reminds me of my uncle, who is an unusual sort for sure but he's a good soul :)
Life ages us all, some more than others. Today I feel old, although you have about 10 years on me. You are so astute at getting to the core of things.
I hear you brother! Bricks or absolute awareless silent void — I settle for either, I’m tired. Although the bricks would indicate further to go. Not certain I am up for that anymore?
Maybe it is yellow bricks, who knows? But we all know where we're headed, even if we don't know exactly what we'll find.
Ah, that yellow brick road. Nice one Glen
Much💖love
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