It’s not so much the number of the days and years we live
But what we did or do with them; this makes us who we are
It’s not so much what we’ve attained as the measure we give
That leaves us satisfied or wishing on yon childhood’s star
It’s not so much our have-and-hold as learning to let go
And in the meantime counting Mercy’s blessings one by one
Then while the smile and sigh of moment melts like summer snow
We learn it’s not so much a touch of Time but grace alone
This age old way of growing old is not just about years
We pass this way but once and none of us knows where it ends
So, while we marvel at how readily time disappears
It’s up to us to make the most of each new day it sends
The here-and-now we hold is all we have, like weightless
gold
Its ladder to far yonder blue scatters footholds like ash
While we climb up and up and join the ranks of growing old
We learn, it’s not so much the number as it is the splash
© Janet Martin
Last night at a
Ladies Spring Tea at church we, all at various stages of getting older
were treated to a wonderful sense of humor by a dear seen-some-HARD-times lady a little further along
in life than most of us present, and it reminded me to ‘revel in the splash’
not the number!
Today hubby adds another rung to the ladder of years….Happy
52nd, Jim.
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I hope you enjoyed your pause on this porch and thank-you for your visit!