Grow old along with me!
The best is yet to be,
the last of life, for which the first was made.
Our times are in his hand who saith,
‘A whole I planned, youth shows but half;’
Trust God: See all, nor be afraid!
On Monday . . .
I read a blog post and in that post
I clicked a link that took me to a book.
There I read and clicked another link
that led me to another book
by the same author.
I chose to Look inside.
After the title page,
after the dedication,
was “The Bird,”
a poem by Arthur Symons.
Beneath “The Bird” was
“The Tree” by Karle Wilson Baker.
Curious, I searched to learn
about Karle Wilson Baker
and I was not disappointed.
Her poems spoke to me.
One I copied into my journal.
Let Me Grow Lovely
Let me grow lovely, growing old–by Karle Wilson Baker
So many fine things do:
Laces, and ivory, and gold,
And silks need not be new;
And there is healing in old trees,
Old streets a glamour hold;
Why may not I, as well as these,
Grow lovely, growing old?
On Tuesday . . .
I read Molly’s Slice of Life;
At the end, she writes —
“I wonder if, when–Molly Hogan, “The Tale of Two Tulips“
we seek so hard to cling
to the vestiges of youth,
we avoid the glorious blossoming as well,
in all its potential messy exuberance.
Something to keep thinking about…“
Indeed, it is something to think about!
On Friday . . .
I’m still thinking
And I’m finding it to be a delightful thought–
To grow lovely, growing old,
A glorious blossoming.