Growing Older

My eyes grow weaker with the passing of the years and yet somehow I find 

beauty in the smallest of things where once I raced by.

The voice that once boomed has grown less insistent, my ears better at listening, 

I learnt to recognise the fool & the sage

Wise enough now to see them in others and myself

I make fewer apologies 

Learn what it means to love without needing or expecting its return.

Value laughter over bank balances, people above possessions

Relish the tales that strangers share

The intimacies of quiet moments & faraway places

Each memory and face that mattered carved deep inside but clear as yesterday

And as time goes by one pervading thought rises above others

It gently whispers the World owes me nothing but to it I owe everything.

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