Days flow like gentle streams,
trickling time over earth and stone,
to follow paths meandering,
to find the stillness of gathered peace,
where nothing is alone.
The sweet release of streams at rest,
when life settles and silence attests
the letting go, when consciousness
slows to acceptance,
in the heart of knowing.
The rush now gone, the rapids relent,
and life is smoother, in retrospect,
as we join the vast and open waters
of a wanted transformation,
a repatriation from life’s harsh events.
The comfort of age, of experiences passed
is heart warming indeed,
knowing and seeing
the pathways clear of contention,
for we have learned and intervention is now rare.
Instead we are the voice of reason,
wisdom gleaned for all we’ve been,
and insight a gift it seems
for all the dreams we’ve won and lost,
for all the loves and pain at cost, we’ve ever known.
And our voices heard,
ringing in truth’s harmonic knell,
rich in experience, our brushes with hell
just a memory of past,
at last all negotiated to be as we are, in peace.
Stoic we may seem,
in our stream of lucid consciousness,
born of all the contentions of our past,
at last in freedom’s cause, released
to find the pause in hectic life absorbed.
Yet we are no different,
age an advantage of time’s onslaught,
as we know what we want,
and the fighting is no longer our affront,
for love is all that counts,
as the sunset vents our final colored walls.
Tony DeLorger © 2018
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