March 11, 2022
I’m grateful for a place that’s warm,
A place to shelter from the storm.
Some days I’m better off inside,
A time to rest and just abide.
So many years I had to rush.
I savor silent, quiet hush.
No looming deadline left to meet,
Another project to complete.
Those years back then they call my prime,
So much to do, so little time.
I’ve entered now my golden years,
My pace has switched to lower gears.
Perhaps this phase will be my prime.
Some days I seem to have more time.
I get to choose the things I do.
Take time to focus on a few.
I now have time to contemplate,
Write down my thoughts, they’ll come, I wait.
Perhaps there’s someone else in need
Who’ll take the time to pause and read,
Find comfort in the words I write,
Peer through the darkness, find the light.