although there is more to tell
and fewer words to tell with
and my sack of wisdom
is heavier than I can handle
yet every moment of truth
is a new epiphany
and each day a burst of freshness
that lights my way
through this underbrush of old age
even as the road ahead shortens
and the path has lost its smoothness
and my steps halt and stammer
yet every glint upon the rock
each drop of shining rain
fills me with light
there are bits of heaven on this path
I promise
©Vilma Ginzberg 1-17-2024
Hi Vilma,
So glad to see you’re still writing, still guiding us along the slippery slope of age.
🙏 batja
Vilma, I love this poem. This phrase really dazzled me: "through this underbrush of old age.” I’m so glad to “see” and read you here and know that you are still living every moment. 💚 - Sandra
You continue to shine light on the world, Vilma. Thank you.