How beautiful are the white tree petals blossoming on the tree next to the second floor apartment I live in. When I was working, I never noticed them, perhaps blinded by the business of my daily affairs and not as aware of nature budding before me as I am now that I’m retired and my eyes have opened more to the goings on outside my apartment in the street and surroundings below. And I am wondering how long those beautiful petals will last before they die like me and everything else does in this temporary life that used to seem like it was forever when was when I was a child and like those newly blossomed white tree petals. And dying was something that only happened to old people, who seemed born old and destined to die.
Bob Boyd
Author: BobBoyd
Age 80. Cancer survivor since 3 years ago. Work out 3 times a week. Ride my exercise bike 2 hours a day. Live a solo reclusive life. Retired a year ago from working with the elderly in a nonprofit. Started writing poetry a little over a year ago; most poems I write are fictional but some are not. Spiritual with a permanent spiritual experience. Write poems on many subjects. Always researching for many of my poems and because of my unquenchable thirst for knowledge. After reading and hearing about many near death experiences and death bed visions, I believe death is the ultimate awakening and the relocation of a lifetime. You may believe differently, but you have the right to be wrong -- I'm just messing with you. :-)
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