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