Aging into everyday love

The supreme happiness of life is the conviction
that we are loved. (Victor Hugo)

The passing spring, birds mourn,
Fishes weep with tearful eyes. (Matsuo Basho)

A secret for aging well is acceptance
of suffering, sorrow and joy,
as feelings tilt this way and that
beyond our easy schemes.

Youth deceives itself with dreams
of happiness by our doing,
until we surrender to the reality
of new seasons with other rhythms.

Elderhood with loss and tears
opens a different listening,
as I become aware of Peggy’s
daily love in common ways,

when we support mutual creativity,
share household chores,
and admit weakened strength
for night driving and cat care.

Yet these defects in our loving
make ah-ha moments precious,
when we talk with cats Max and Tony
and refill the bird feeders,

or when I meet weekly with a few friends
to exchange poems for kindly surgery
and hopeful recovery. All voices are welcome,
even when the outcome still limps.

Basho and Hugo help us elders
touch the beyond
within such everyday love.