In the West, many people (including some in the media) seem to delight in denigrating old people. That makes me sad, and not just because I’m more than 65 myself.
In “The Blackthorn Speaks”, published this week on the back of Far East Magazine, I’m appealing for a more merciful view of the aged. Looking at blackthorn trees near home in England, and remembering many more in Ireland, I wrote this poem some years ago and have copied it here for you now.
Thanks to the Columbans for the beautiful photography.
In spite of the gloomy northern weather that usually plagues December, I like this time of year: not just because Christmas is around the corner, but for its own sake. Advent makes me stop and take stock of where I’m heading and why; who’s going along the journey with me and why. I love getting those unexpected phonecalls from cousins and friends far away (New Zealand, Boston, Somerset, Melbourne…); I love the electronic and card greetings from people who’ve taken time to acknowledge that I might matter to them as much as they matter to me.
So here’s a poem I wrote a while ago to celebrate this unique, wonderful time of year. It appeared this month on the back of Far East magazine. Christmas poems will follow…at Christmas!
© Lizzie Ballagher