The Road Maps on my Hands
I look upon my hands,
No matter under light night or day,
All the creases and crinkles, scars and burns
Full life of work and care
Work and Love,
And each new wrinkle of age,
Family and Friends,
All the hugs I helped created
Dirty or clean,
Still full of happiness and pride,
Old or Young,
Have felt such sadness and pain
Scratched or bruised,
I’m still view with pride
These old hands of mine….
Steve ‘Easy’ Whitacre December 4th, 2007
Nekoti inenia, nekoti ihkweea
Soleil es Tepehkiiha
My Shadow
Passing through years of time, making me who I am now
Each wrinkle and scar a testimony of life well lived
Time wroth furrows mapping each bend in the path
Life’s blood runs now slow in these old veins
Once golden hair now awash in the white of snow
Yet I still hold to life as death touches cold against my cheek
I find myself in this old picture, young and strong
Not finding what I am, but what I was
Mirror leaving no doubt, not else to believe
Yet though I’ve altered, much remains the same
As I was drawn, I still retain that which I am
Complexion and stand, here I still find me
It is my face staring back, my friendly smile
My never empty well of love, still seen in reflective eye
Here I find, my care and compassion still live
With abundant enthusiasm, the zeal of a youth
Denial perhaps, of ruddy lip, or hair of less youthful dye
So as I behold the frail old man I’ve become
I find my shadow less changed than I thought…..
Steve ‘Easy’ Whitacre December 23rd, 2007
