Blessed Stories

What does she seeWith her eyes on meThis shell of a manFilled with insecurityBroken and flawedPaint pealed and chippedOn this meandering pathI’ve stumbled and slippedThe occasional scar Etched upon my skinEvidence of deeper woundsRemain buried withinHardly exceptionalIn fact garden varietyHumbled and blessedShe sees me differently

Watery expanse covered in mistDawn breaking into purple and blueMorning sky blushing as if kissedHilltops highlighted in a golden hue Heart warm emotions so much alive Silence not yet broken mind aglowGrandeur causing my soul to reviveSapphires dancing across the snow Magnificent day filled with blessings Fortunate mortal I am to be caressed Panorama stretching my heartstringsAllowed more time as Nature's guest

I’m getting older because I haven’t died and wiser because I seldom worry or shake my head at foolishness. I walk much slower now because my legs are stiff and know it makes no sense to hurry. Getting older like the trees I share this land with and the hills where the sun rises to glisten on the water lets me look around and see with sadder gladder eyes-- still blue like the sky but cloudy too-- and so I squint to see the...