Some people may say Iím over the hill,
Cast off in the elderly pool.
But I wonít succumb to a life being still,
When my faith in God must rule.
My fragile body may not win the race
Bifocals now help me see.
But God can transform a tired old face
And bring healing with each bended knee.
My children are grown, whatís there to do?
A life once bustling with nonstop routines
Must be softened to birth a more flexible view;
Rekindling old projects lost in my dreams.
Hands coarse from scrubbing too many floors,
Still hold tender memories to share.
God-given wisdom unlocked the doors,
Guiding me through when life wasnít fair.
My heart still blossoms as this old vessel wilts,
Still yearning to love and win a lost friend.
To taste Godís grace without feeling guilt;
Marinating each day with a joyful Amen!
Thereís no date that tells me itís time to resign,
Iíll craft a new plan to fit Godís desires,
Tackling each task and refreshing my mind,
Till my earthly soul fades but never expires.
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