From a friend...
On Aging
All we like
sheep have gone astray, we’re told,
By
self-deceit we’ve chosen our own way,
The price for
such conceit that we must pay
Is dear, as
youth defers to growing old.
Quietly it
comes, a cruel thief, swift
Flowing
current bearing former glories
Of body,
mind, and soul away. Stories
Of coming
bliss, cherished long, now bereft
Of hope. Where is the wisdom, gracious God,
In granting
this foe such power to leave
Alive those
who long ago stopped living?
Such wisdom confounds
mere settlers of sod,
And yet by
far more aweful to conceive –
Wisdom that
in love keeps on forgiving.
Brook Thelander
