Gently Rolling

As the years roll on
life becomes a bit
like an impressionist painting,
everything becomes softer
& takes on shades of fade--
eyesight blurs,
skin thins,
things move towards
transparency,
lightness,
lessening,
and yet--
there is a quickening,
an intensifying
of Love,
so much that we hold dear,
and yet--
our fingers are losing their grasp,
things are falling,
lower, lower,
until finally
they reach the soft ground,
the good green earth,
our blanket, our bed, our departure.