Just passed another birthday 35 years old ! Although relatively speaking it is young (depending who you are talking too) and getting older doesnt bother me it does get one thinking. I bumped into a school mate at the weekend and we hadnt met since 1993 our last day of school as far as we could remember and thats 18 years ago. Anyways apart from losing a few yards pace which i never really had on the soccer field, a few too many pounds around the midriff and a reduction in hair i cant complain. I always think of this poem when getting contemplative about the years passing by.
Mirror in February – Thomas Kinsella
The day dawns, with scent of must and rain,
Of opened soil, dark trees, dry bedroom air.
Under the fading lamp, half dressed — my brain
Idling on some compulsive fantasy —
I towel my shaven jaw and stop, and stare,
Riveted by a dark exhausted eye,
A dry downturning mouth.
It seems again that it is time to learn,
In this untiring, crumbling place of growth
To which, for the time being, I return.
Now plainly in the mirror of my soul
I read that I have looked my last on youth
And little more; for they are not made whole
That reach the age of Christ.
Below my window the wakening trees,
Hacked clean for better bearing, stand defaced
Suffering their brute necessities;
And how should the flesh not quail, that span for span
Is mutilated more? In slow distaste
I fold my towel with what grace I can,
Not young, and not renewable, but man.