Ode to 54
As birthdays go, this one was calm.
A pretty day, it began with a psalm.
“Rejoice!” it instructed. “Burst into song!”
I thought about it… but not for long.
My singing voice is like my skin.
With age, it sags, and is becoming thin.
So, instead of singing, I decided to write
About getting older. It’s not such a fright.
Oh, 54, I used to think
That when I caught up with you, my life would stink!
“I’ll have no fun!” I feared the worst.
“I’ll eat prunes, wear bad shoes, and keep socks in my purse!”
But, 54, you just ain’t that bad!
Life is so much better than the fears that I had
Of growing older and losing my youth.
54, listen up and I’ll tell you the truth.
“Youth is wasted on the young,” once said a sage.
I get it! I understand much more at this age.
I appreciate life, its ups and its downs.
I pay attention, embrace, and laugh more than frown.
I want to learn, and to grow and to travel, and do!
I’m not afraid to say “I don’t know” or “teach me”… it’s true!
I do understand the quick passage of time,
Which makes every day precious. Give me a mountain to climb!
I understand the importance of holding your children to your heart.
And mending fences that have kept friendships apart.
By the way, I also get that it’s harder to lose
The weight I put on when it’s ice cream I choose!
My skin is not as firm, there’s a droop here and there.
And, my roots are gray. No. Wait! They’re not! I swear!
I find myself counting the number of full moons.
How many I’ve seen… they come and go much too soon.
But, all in all, I would say 54 is a breeze.
No prunes for my birthday. Nachos, if you please.
So, take that, 54. You are not such a brute.
And, oh, by the way, my shoes are pretty cute!