The Secret Of Life Is Enjoying The Passage Of Time

Staring at the hourglass,

watching the sand escape and fall.

There is a strange sense of acceptance,

having no control at all.

In the passage of the time or the changes that it brings.

A willing, action-less participant, creates a pathway, just for me.

*

I love to hear my voice,

when I’m sounding like my father.

Witty - logic or advice to make me wise.

The way my hands fold in my lap,

fondly, reminds me of my mother.

I look like more like her, as time lingers around my eyes.

Comfort comes with age, a consolation of contentment.

A finished book, or thoughtful-well made plan.

Knowing that though the days are long, the years are quickly fleeting by,

we yearn to leave part of us, to help them understand.

*

It’s not the goal to know it all,

after we tried for years to prove it wrong.

It’s much simpler, like gravel under our tires.

Crunching, crumbling, reforming-making the journey smooth,

attaining wisdom, only aging ones acquire.

I must admit, I am envious of the flowers,

filling their potential, growing effortlessly, in the field.

They also pass time, as complacent as I am,

a perfect bloom unfolds - seemingly unskilled.

*

Deep inside I feel optimistic,

that my time here, has not been in vain.

Somehow I gave wisdom, sprinkled with a little grace,

comforted, as you experienced both joy and pain.

*

As magnificent as that uncoerced lone flower,

with no agenda, but brightening your day.

The smile on your face, hiding there behind your eyes,

is all I need to be renewed and repaid.

Revealing the comfort found in doing a good thing,

to help ease a burden or load.

Because life moves swiftly, nonstop, in one direction,

as we travel down the same road leading home.