I don’t do things as good as I used to,
The days move different, the lines are blurred.
I don’t hear the whispers like once I could,
And faces fade more than they should.

I don’t see the world with the same clear light,
The colors dim, the print’s too tight.
My memory plays a game of hide,
And sometimes leaves me mystified.

I walk much slower than I did before,
And pause at every creaky floor.
I take more breaks and rest more often,
But in those pauses, my soul has softened.

I’m slower now at most everything
At tying shoes or answering rings.
But though my hands may tremble some,
My heart is steady, my race still run.

And that’s okay, I’m not dismayed,
For in the quiet, I’ve often prayed.
And found a peace I never knew—
I’m closer to God than I ever grew.

So let the years fall soft and slow,
There’s grace in letting the old ways go.
For though I don’t do all I used to do,
I’m held by love that’s ever true.

2Co 4:16  The outward man perish, yet the inward man is renewed day by day. 

For His Honor and Glory
MarkWaldrop