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Silver and Gold
by Wendy Freebourne
I spent my twenties slim as ice
and empty as my golden head,
in a weak haze, that hung above
my newly seeded, furrowless life.
My heart was stony broke.
There was little I knew, then.
When I was thirty, ideas, blown across
a blossoming field on passionate winds,
pollinated my mind.
When one silver strand appeared,
I thought I knew something,
but my heart was not prosperous yet.
At forty, I gathered the fruits
of knowledge and experience, 
climbed the boundary fence.
Watching the first half of my life disappear
into that familiar landscape,
I broke out for freedom,
to find the other half,
my heart swelling in my chest, joyful
as silvery glints began to show.
Now I am over the hill of fifty
and there is no way back;
not that I want to go.
My fruit is bruised and softening,
but I still have curiosity.
My heart has grown full with compassion.
I am wealthy, even though my purse is empty.
Wise trees dignify the horizon and time,
I have plenty of that.
There is silver now amongst the gold
and I know what I know.
At sixty I will be delightful and delicious,
enjoying the mellow drying fruits of an earlier harvest.
Dancing, I will reach the forest of grace and forgiveness;
and maybe feel betrayed by my aching body,
from time to time.
Even so, my heart will overflow with gratitude,
While in my coffers will lie silver and gold.
I will spend the silver last of all, as I grow old.
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