Of late I have noticed , I think a lot
My eyes well up at the smallest suggestion of emotion,
People say , I speak aloud and hear less ,
Heart creates its own noise,
Stomach presides over all disorders,
Knees are giving way for the most part,
Gravity has a field day,
Having pulled everything an inch lower.
Ankles don’t obey and twist at will.
None of this, actually, hassles me
Because I am vain about this child
Who wends his way up
From my aching feet to twisting ankles,
Past the buckling knees,
Gurgling stomach and fluttering heart ,
Sneaks through the ophthalmic blinds
To take control of my mind
And cast an amusing sheen
That lends sparkle to dim eyes and
Tunes the ears to distant chirping.
My jumping heart becomes
A croaking monsoon frog.
The noisy stomach and nebulous stench,
Become a playful , teasing wench.
Wobbly gait that makes me slow,
Takes on the hues of a puppet show.
This is fun ,me thinks , and
This child is the real thing.
Rest all , put together ,
Is nothing but a caricature
Of what I thought was , Being.