The (Late) Baby Bloomers

They said on PBS tonight late blooming is a sign,
Of left-brain loss of dominance as boomers lose their minds;
Small comfort as the art in me predominates these days,
And Stu the intellectual, thinks now in different ways.

The guys who figured out that left and right sides of our mind,
Do different things (like count or paint) for all of humankind,
Helped us to tap into the parts of minds we'd hardly used,
And now we see ourselves adapt as mental cells we lose.

I find I cannot do the work I once did with my mind,
Like edit, count, and read the books of which my shelves are lined;
But like the crocus in the spring which blooms beneath the snow,
The artist side of who I am continues still to grow.

Although it may not last too long, it's here, so what the heck –
I'll do my art, stay out of choice, lest finances I wreck;
Team up with those whose left-brain works quite well in place of mine,
And so between the two of us, will make some art just fine.

Ten thousand boomers shift each day to age sixty-five;
A hundred twenty years ago they died ’fore fifty-five;
They've added fifteen quite good years till now – what's my complaint?
As now I squeeze a few more years with poems, clay, and paint.

I cannot stop the memory loss, but maybe that's okay,
It opens up the right-brain stuff, let's art come out to play;
I cannot play at basketball, fix shingles on my roof,
But there's some stuff which I can do like photograph and spoof.

I think of Arthur Davis, dead at age of twenty-six –
Had leprosy – no drugs for him which could his ailment fix;
He carved a lot of figurines, of what we do not know,
But through his D'Arcy, Carville days, let other people know –

His inter-life within that shell disfigured by disease,
Which folks could see apart from him – aesthetics in them please;
So as I view the road ahead, and wonder at my fate,
I look at what is possible, then step up to that plate.

Now Billy Graham said he had no fear of death in life,
But no one prepped him for ‘old age’ he faces with his wife;
‘Utility’ quite valued is in this society,
But there is more to life than that, and this is what I see:

There is a place for thought, and work, and deep relationship,
For scoring points, collecting cash, and making pointed hits,
For giving hope, (and mixes of these aspects of ourselves),
But when it all is said and done, we're set aside on shelves.

"To save your life means lose it", said our Christ at thirty-three,
As he hung on the cross for us and watched his people flee;
"I have no interest being last, if others don't survive",
Said Cree in Sandy Lake to me – "let's live while we're alive".

So as my birthday comes this week and I turn sixty-five,
There are some things which I should toss if I am going to thrive;
It's time to throw away some stuff which has no use to me,
And in the time that lies ahead, late baby bloomer be.

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