'Growing Old' - a poem for Samaritans Scotland

To mark World Poetry Day, we're celebrating a poem written especially for Samaritans Scotland alongside the launch of the new Samaritartan.

The poem, titled 'Growing Old', was written by award-winning poet and current Edinburgh Makar, Michael Pedersen.

Talking about the significance of the poem and the tartan in highlighting the work of Samaritans Scotland, Michael said:

"I’m in admirative awe of all the vital, life-altering, and deeply courageous work Samaritans do. The people they reach, the lives bolstered, the minds fortified, and the connections nurtured, forged and fostered because of their compassionate and mettlesome presence is, quite frankly, astounding.

"Suffice to say, Scotland, and the world, is a better, less lonely, more sentient place because of them. To have written a poem to champion them and help celebrate the arrival of their stunning new Samaritartan range is a supreme privilege. Long live the Samaritans (and Samaritartan)."

The poem was used alongside the launch video for the brand-new and officially registered Samaritartan.

as fabric twirls from thread to fistful

& tartan trots to sight, as shutters whirl

open, wistful, landslide in the light.

like puzzle pieces smoosh together

thronging into shape, growing old

is underrated, connection’s worth

the wait. many poems shake loose

their rhyme & still thrum in the bones,

there’s music in our kinks & grooves,

so don’t give up the ghost. hold on,

reach out, because something small

is bound to happen, or something big,

or the hope of something that feels

as real or vital as the thing itself

– some fluke or favour or fancy

that dissipates the ugliness

so deftly that all at once beauty

outflanks horror at such

a whopping ratio there’s no real odds

for its precious shade of living.

subtle as an eyelash, it’s the simplest

of spells that are fastest forgotten –

like the wind waltzing up from nowhere

as the light burls through the fog;

or the way a crack in puddle-ice

is almost always followed by a bubble

of air. & the lost moon, also gasping,

tigers past the twilight, as is to say

don’t forget the heart’s a silly, fragile

thing, forever getting bludgeoned,

but at the art of bouncing back

there really is no better, no bolder,

miracle-maker you’d rather have

in your corner, calling out a name,

your name, in tribute to tomorrow.

By Michael Pedersen