Alas, I was the young one; now I am old.

I was full of fire; now seems I am cold.

I wonder what happened to me at the start.

I was ball of fire even in my heart.

A thousand years have passed, I was still hot;

Heaven, I heard of it, but that I was not.

I knew I was the third rock from gleaming sun.

I knew I was spinning since my life begun.

I was burning, shaking, boiling; I did all.

My spring was gone, summer passed, and now it’s fall.

A lot has been happened since I grew old;

In some case, I matured; in some, I aged bold.

I have mountains that are aged and getting tall,

I have mountains that, with age, are getting small.

There are arid deserts that show they had life.

I have a sea that is dead, barren from strife.

My ancient promise was that I’m getting old,

Instead, I matured with love, which unfold.

I am in love with love with swallows at dawn.

I love to watch the sun until it is gone.

I love to drink the rain through my cracked rocks,

Listen to nightingale at night when he talks.

I hated when they say, old wondering ball,

The aging makes me weak, painful, and small. 

I am now so mature with love and my age.

If that love disappears, this is a blank page.

2/2/2017    Haloo

For: Geostrata magazine