Growing Old
What takes place; as we grow old;
allowing the body to age?
To many, a bill of nonsense, was sold:
“the old could no longer engage.”
Most expect wisdom to come with years;
but, that isn’t always how it’s to be;
I endured many trials; shed many tears;
becoming a man, such as me.
But who was I; a failure or success?
I climbed no mountains; swam no seas;
much of my life, I lived in duress;
inflicted with autoimmune disease.
Age is merely the body’s grand illusion;
a physical image concealing who I am;
from my lives, I’ve drawn this conclusion:
I’m the heart of a lion; in the body of a lamb.
We are each of us, a child of the king;
energy souls; crafted above.
What is it we bring as our offering?
All he requires, is our love.
Only the physical decays and dies;
from it; the energy within, will sever;
separated from the physical disguise;
the soul will live forever.
Each journey we’re given upon the earth;
is a blessing; there’s so much to know;
for, only the physical body has birth;
so love in the soul, may grow.
Others won’t claim I’d been so bold;
no books written, or songs, sung;
but, one thing, about growing old:
at least, I didn’t die young.
Monty 2/27/22. # 996