0 As I Grow Older

As I grow older, I trace the lines on my face retelling the story of my life, counting new lines each day, struggling to find the goodness in what has yet to be written.
I notice time has gently painted strands of silver in my hair convincing me that my youthful, carefree days are over.
I see the spots on my hands where the sun has gently kissed my skin in times of hard work and great pleasure.
And I feel the ache in my neck where the weight of my troubles seems to burrow into my bones.

As I grow older, I tolerate the throbbing in my back as I move and bend my body trying to recapture the actions of my youth.
I squint at the sight of words on a page knowing soon enough my eyes will require help to see clearly.
I stumble through the fog that clouds my brain at times, brining on fits of madness as I struggle to reclaim the saneness of my mind.
And I hear my heart beat a tune of sadness as I watch time dance quickly through my body as if it were water moving swiftly through my fingers.

But, as I grow older, I relish in the memories of times past, captured as sparkling moments frozen in time.
I smile at the love that overflows and pumps blood through my heart and keeps me aching for more.
I laugh with great enthusiasm at the way my body can still surprise me at its still undiscovered value and beauty.
And I build, with childlike imagination, new dreams that lead me into the light, full of hope, wonder and love.

For as I grow older, I rejoice in the time I am given, for there are so many who will never grow older than me.


--Karen N., 37