Though My Eyes Grow Dim
The world that was my senses,
Of smell, of taste and sight,
With feeling and with sound,
Have vanished overnight.
Although I hear less sharply
The sounds—both low and higher—
I hear the singing now
Of the angel choir.
Though my steps are slower
On the paths I plod,
Every step I take
Brings me close to God.
Though my eyes grow dim,
More clearly I can see
Heaven up ahead
Is waiting there for me.
Through prayer and supplication
My senses have revived,
Not on this mortal plane,
In heaven magnified.
LTC Roy E. Peterson, US Army Military Intelligence and Russian Foreign Area Officer (Retired) has published more than 6,200 poems in 88 of his 112 books. He has been an Army Attaché in Moscow, Commander of INF Portal Monitoring in Votkinsk, first US Foreign Commercial Officer in Vladivostok, Russia and Regional Manager in the Russian Far East for IBM. He holds a BA, Hardin-Simmons University (Political Science); MA, University of Arizona (Political Science); MA, University of Southern California (Int. Relations) and MBA University of Phoenix. He taught at the University of Arizona, Western New Mexico University, University of Maryland, Travel University and the University of Phoenix.
Roy, thanks for this wonderful reminder of a sure hope available to anyone devoted to God on his terms. Not wishing to get to heaven or hoping the good outweighs the bad, but certain of his destiny. I often wonder how, without the certain hope of a perfect afterlife, anyone can live with any hope of meaning in this life. I feel like Paul, the Apostle, who wished to meet the Messiah yet wished to live on to accomplish Messiah’s work on earth. Either way he would be content. That is what I see in your uplifting poem.
Jeff, thank you for your kind comments and recognition of the greatest hope of mankind.
Roy, this poem is a fine and touching example of what can be done with simple, direct words without the help of ornamentation. Yes, the senses, which are our only means of perceiving the world at present, grow dim in time, but it is to be hoped that clear sight of a higher sort will develop when we need it. The calmness of the language here suggests that the poet begins to experience a revival and magnification of his senses. He doesn’t need to search for brilliant metaphors and striking images. His feeling of peace is conveyed through brief lines of tranquil language. No strain is necessary. Simplicity is very gratifying here. By the way, the accompanying illustration is the last of four huge paintings of a group in the National Gallery in Washington D.C. How well it fits with your poem!
Bhikkhu, thank you for recognizing the value of simplicity in poetry that sometimes far exceeds the “ornamentation.” The simplicity was purposeful in sensitizing readers to the thinking of an older person leaving behind the accoutrements of the past and looking forward clearly to the future.
Roy, this poem is a fine and touching example of what can be done with simple, direct words without the help of ornamentation. Yes, the senses, which are our only means of perceiving the world at present, grow dim in time, but it is to be hoped that clear sight of a higher sort will develop when we need it. The calmness of the language here suggests that the poet begins to experience the revival and magnification of his senses. He doesn’t need to search for brilliant metaphors and striking images. His feeling of peace is conveyed through brief lines of tranquil language. No strain is necessary. Simplicity is gratifying here. By the way, the accompanying illustration is the last of four huge paintings of a group in the National Gallery in Washington D.C. How well it fits with your poem!
This profound truth told with a calm and easy tone lends a different perspective to growing old, if it is happening in faith.
Thank you.
Gigi, Amen! You understood the “perspective” of one growing older. Thnak you.
You bring both common sense and upward motion to the fore, Roy. Reflecting on lessening power in the physical senses, you remind readers of corresponding supernatural sources of truth and joy. And you make known the means of sharpening supernatural perception. It isn’t aging and loss of previous awareness, but prayer, especially suppliant prayer in which you actively ask for better sight and hearing that enable you to advance with confidence.
Margaret, you are so right about prayer improving at least our inner sight and hearing allowing us to “advance with confidence.” I especially look forward to your insightful comments.
Roy,
I am growing old, too. We all are. Your poem points beyond mortality with profound simplicity using carefully chosen words; words which lead us on a journey through and beyond morality. The promise is tangible—palpable—close enough to touch. And through eyes of faith the veil does indeed grow more translucent as we grow closer to eternity. You captured this well.
Oops “morTality,” not “morality” lol
James, we are kindred spirits growing older. We seem to see the way more clearly with our advancing age. Thank you for your kind words.
I’m no spring chicken myself, but am seeing many of my older friends and colleagues battling a dimming of the senses. You captured this fact of life well in your poem, Roy.
Thank you, Paul. The physical challenges do become more obvious. I managed to fracture my arm a week ago and that adds to my difficulties.
Your poem offers a message of assurance and a promise of eternity, Roy. Readers can cling to that truth.
Margaret, the promises become more vivid and assuring in our elder years. Thank you.
This is profoundly moving, Roy. Intimations of mortality are difficult to face but the depth of faith displayed in this poem bring much solace.
Brian, I appreciate your comment so much. Facing mortality can be difficult but as believers we have faith giving us solace.
Roy – I have always thought of you as solid as a rock! Don’t go man!!! We need you!
James, I appreciate your kind thoughts. I considered myself solid as a rock physically until recently. I did manage to fracture my arm a week or so ago, but can still type with some pain.
Know what you mean Roy: playing with my 2-year granddaughter over Christmas, did my back in!!! But chin up: many more excellent poems to write before the Lord calls us back!
To: LTC R.E. Peterson (top priority communication)
From: Highest Command Level
Subject: Your current assignment
This is to inform you that you are not relieved of duty until notified by Highest Command Level. We hereby reaffirm your orders to stay on assignment, carry out all delegated tasks, and accomplish your designated mission.
By authority of:
General E. L. OHIM
Supreme Commander, Y.A.H.W.E.H. (Youth, Age, Health, Welfare on Earth and in Heaven)
Fantastic, Dr. Salemi! Love it!
Acuity of senses is no guarantee of good sense, and though I might have neither, I can still recognize a good poem when I read one. I would consider a broken arm a fair trade for a poem from my arthritic fingers as good as this one. As a son of Peter, you are still rock-solid.
Bless you, C.B.! I appreciate your kind words!
This gleaming gem of a poem mirrors the Bright Morning Star – thank you. What a fine start to the day.
Alec, I am honored by your wonderful comments!
Roy, the sentiments of this truly beautiful poem sing to my soul. I can relate to every carefully and perfectly placed word. Your poem comes with a profound lesson and a warm hug of hope for those who grow frailer and whose time on Earth grows shorter (all of us), and I thank you wholeheartedly for your lovely words. I am also sad to hear you are going through a tough time on the health-front – my heart goes out to you. Take good care of yourself and find that beam of sunshine and gleam of joy in every tough day we inhabit – that’s an order! 😉
Susan, you are one of those bright beams of sunshine!
Roy, this sounds like a folk song, pensive but serene. Too bad I am not a composer. Very evocative.
Wonderful comments, Mchael!
Roy, great poem! Hang on, buddy… we’re pulling for ya!
Mike, I appreciate your kind words so much. Still a little tough to type but slowly improving.
A really touching poem Roy. Thank you for your sensitive words and I wish you a speedy recovery.