How is that we grow old so very fast?
That the days and weeks refuse to last?
That the years fly by in the blink of an eye,
And that compassionate souls like you and like I,
Are left bereft and lost and wanting for more?
This resounding feeling so testing, so raw.
As times races by and patience flees,
We live our lives on fast forward, needing to please
Everyone. But. Ourselves.
We abandon our souls to nourish those of our young,
Put them to bed, and blackout the sun.
The children, they wake, they play and thrive,
But our souls rest for years without feeling alive.
And our offspring grow before us, reminding us of a time,
That we felt fearless, limitless, bold and… fine.
Never were we warned of the truth that plays out,
Of the disconnection, distrust, and unstoppable doubt.
Or that we thrive, we fade, we exist in pain,
Fighting to find, know, and love ourselves again.
Our youth slips away through butter fingers,
Though that sense of young always lingers.
Our bodies bear the wear and the tear,
But inner wisdom swells faithful and fair.
Soul once dormant, starts to stir,
Did we even mean to waken her?
Her voice excited by now listening ears,
She fights for presence and facing of fears.
She is your chance to once more feel whole,
She is changed, yet the same, old trusty soul.