I don’t think I am old yet. Maybe that’s because I don’t want to stop growing.
I no longer hunger busyness. I have a taste for a quiet place, around me and in me.
I thirst a quenchable thirst. I’m satisfied by soft unspoken Word that plays no tricks on my mind.
I have a new affection for things with wings and feathers that I notice from edges of rooftops.
I am not envious of time. It is to me like endless running water, in and through and all about me.
Much wisdom here, Deb,
and some really neat photos.
Thank you, Sarah.
Ahh… the wisdom of this second half… Thank you, dearest Deb, for putting into beautiful poetry my feelings! You’re such an awesome poet! <3 <3