Silver Threads

There is a silver thread from the top of my head pulling upwards. It keeps my eyes on the horizon or looking at the birds in the tree tops or counting the chimney pots atop the roof tops. Look ahead, keep your eyes on where you're going. Pick the points of where your feet will soon be treading. Farm steads, lone trees, bends in the road. Keep the silver thread taught, don't let those eyes drop to the floor I don't want to fall anymore. Enjoy the view, make it to the top of the hill and survey the scenery laid out below,  the patchwork of the countryside. Follow the lane down alongside the lush golden fields, soon they will be scalped and ploughed and the colours will change as the season moves on.

There are silver threads in my hair. No longer can I pull them out one by one. Accept them. Love them.   There are lines around my eyes and I push them back and wish. Power surges and hormonal dips play havoc. Time is moving on, praying I'm only half way, so much to do, so many dreams to chase so much to see and do.

There are silver threads to be worn. I shall wear silver shoes too. I shall celebrate in style with my nearest and dearest, my wonderful family. We shall wine and dine on the finest. We shall laugh and reminisce and look forward. Cryptic messages in my diary soon to be told. Its only a number and not really that old.

Medals have been won and challenges achieved. The next season begins with goals anew. The next decade of dreams waiting to unfurl, races to be done and most precious of all, time to be spent with my most special girl.