The Passing of Time…

The Passing of Time…

What can one say about growing old? The loss of shape, hiding beneath many layers of clothing, sparkle gone from one’s eyes. One is no longer beautiful in the eyes of others. The function of one’s body grows weaker, sitting in that doomed place with little human contact. The sunset-glow felt in the beginning of each day is gone. Dreams escape the demented mind, as does the ordinariness of each day.

There is certain knowledge within the fog of the mind of the aged; those long ago youthful days may flitter across the closed window of the mind. Nonetheless, the prison door never opens the walled-in prison unknown to most. It is the last stage of life, frozen within and quite, a phantom of themselves, a hollow ghost.

No longer, a figure of delight, no longer surrounded by the sweet smell of life. Like the snow-covered winter landscape, life is stilled; a shadow of one’s long ago self. Life from the womb begins a painful story, a stormy world like summer storms, winds and rain. Beauty spent and done, despite Hells rage now silenced by the passing of time. With the eyes looking pass what lies ahead, bondage no longer a threat as the mind realizes it will end in death.

 

©elizabethannjohnsonmurphree

AUTHOR’S NOTE: Aging
AUTHORS BOOK AT AMAZON.COM
https://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_ss_i_4_8?url=search-alias%3Dstripbooks&field-keywords=ann+johnson-murphree&sprefix=ann+john%2Caps%2C221&crid=RM5ALVGUNEEB

 

 

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2 thoughts on “The Passing of Time…

  1. Beautifully described, but growing old does not have to be like that. I refuse to ‘grow old’ and think of myself as about 40 (I’m 62). I’ve taken up hobbies (including blogging) in my retirement and am trying to see as much of the world with my husband as I can while we still enjoy good health. We choose active holidays rather than relaxing ones and even our ‘filler’ city breaks are spent walking all over the places we visit. We are lucky still to be fit and without any real problems, and I have only out on about a stone (14 pounds) since getting married, luckily. Just because you are old – and a lot older than myself – doe snot mean you stop being attractive to others, beauty is within, not on the outside. Perhaps you have someone a lot older in mind?

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Dear Fellow Blogger,
      The passing of time came to be as I was going to my mailbox and passing the Community Room of the Independent Housing where I have an apartment. At first glance, I stopped to observe those having their regular Tuesday morning coffee and rolls. There among both men and women, some overweight and some underweight, the diabetics were eating sugary donuts, the too thin drinking only black coffee. I immediately thought of the story, “The man who ate no fat and the woman who ate no lean”. Some cared about their “looks”; others by sight did not care. After this every Tuesday, social gathering most of the tenants would soon return to their apartments not to emerge until the next coffee gathering. This scene and later thoughts brought about “The Passing of Time”. No, the content of the post is not an autobiography of my life; the contents are the imagination of this writer.
      Thank you for your comment “beautifully described”, it is appreciated. I too refuse to grow old! My hobby’s is painting (posts on blog front), and I suppose blogging is another. In retirement, I have become a professional writer, a career choice instead of sitting around drinking coffee and snacking on donuts. I have published twelve books throughout my life.
      Within your comment you stated “Just because you are old – and a lot older than myself – does not mean you stop being attractive to others, beauty is within, not on the outside. Perhaps you have someone a lot older in mind?”
      I am several decades older than you are, more than “a lot older” that you pointed out. My photograph does show that I have not stopped being attractive to others. I did not understand the comment “Perhaps I had someone older in mind.” again; I was lost for the meaning.
      You are not alone in thinking that my post are personally about me, no, a glimpse perhaps, not totally. This will not be the first time nor the last that I have be mistaken as a down trodden old woman ready to kill herself. In addition, it will not be the last. I simply try to explain that I am a writer, a writer of “fiction”.
      Your life and vision for your future sounds fantastic, I wish you well in the future; your blogging is outstanding. I plan to follow it closely. E.

      Like

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