The journey of life is pictured here as a steep climb up a mountain initially. As the ascent levels out during maturing adulthood and into midlife, the climb less ambitious, beneficial perspective is added—longevity becomes the thought, and the way ahead is weighed with wise reason. As the senior years beckon we see the peak steadily approaching; the cusp is ever so near. Finally, over the cusp we go—into death, the venture into life after death.
Early going strides are tough,
Rest’s neither desired nor taken,
Seems as though never is enough,
Until resilience finally is shaken.
Then it is the journey levels,
And there for a time it stays,
A time of rest fixing dishevels,
Slows so we can count our days.
Nearing midway we wonder aloud,
What is life truly about?
To what in this life have we been endowed?
Comes time then to break the drought.
Senior years stretched out majestic,
Life in full bloom, wisdom foretasted,
A wondrous plain these do detect it,
Aspires to end the life not wasted.
Entering the cusp unto life’s demise,
Spirit’s taken from here to there,
Over we go not to despise,
Love of God we never despair.
Thoughts of denial strike most people during the journey that is their life. We want to live as if the game of life would never end. But, alas, it does end. Our mortality should not depress us; it should inspire us. This physical life is not all there is.
There is something better beyond.
But more urgent than thoughts of the ethereal, which most of us are not usually given to perhaps, is how the journey up that mountain of life bends and weaves, the grades steepening for a time, then easing.
As we picture going over that cusp at the crest—the end of our lives—can we draw from that a motive—a reason—to live differently now?
© 2010 S. J. Wickham.