the soft sky
begins to take on
the brightness
of the rising sun,
the early morning
is quiet,
its peace
reaches into
the recesses
of the soul -
last night's restlessness
disappears -
the golden light
is warmth,
it provides a calm
you never know you need
until it washes over you
Aging
the stories of the past
are told in memory;
the evolution of time
is evident
in the erosion
of the land
and the gray lines
creasing our faces;
nostalgia and time's passing mix
to form a heavy weight
upon the mind,
death makes its presence felt,
not ominous,
but real:
we have lived,
we shall die
but not yet,
there is still more for us
to be,
to do,
to experience,
more wisdom to gain
before the sands
in life's hourglass
run out