Solace

How came this
Softness in my eyes?
This easing of my features?

Once
I had the glint
Of an eagle
The jaw of a bear.

Now
Young men hold the door
And young women pass
Without a fleeting glance.

The second hand soars as a sparrow
The minute hand glides as a hawk
And the hour hand hunts
With the stealth of an owl.

The advance of years is not comfortable.

I once relished the sun on my skin
And the wind in my face.
Now I seek the shade of the elm
And find shelter from the blade
Of the breeze.

But there is solace in memory.
I hurry backward
To feel the wire in my frame
And the steel in my purpose.
It waits for me there
Like a maiden awaiting her prince.

Time is the stream in which I wade
Its waters my balm.

Take my hand and come with me.
The water is not deep
But exceedingly kind.