'The Art of Growing Old' by Martin Day
The flawless trust of infancy,
The wonder of discovery,
And bigger hands to carry me,
It's the art of growing old.
The energy and fun of youth,
Zealous in pursuit of truth,
Enthusiasm, Bullet-proof,
It's the art of growing old.Time, lapping at my feet.
I'm walking in the sand
Showing those I meet
The treasures in my hand,
Gathered from my life along the way.
When the fullness of the sea
Comes in to cover me,
I'll rise to the eternal holiday, an everlasting holiday.Adulthood authority,
The means for generosity,
And little ones that look like me,
It's the art of growing old.
The wisdom of retiring years,
As Earth recedes and Heaven nears,
The fog lifts and perspective clears,
It's the art of growing old.Spiting out what can't be chewed,
Embracing change when change is due,
And knowing who you answer to,
It's the art of growing old.
Blow convention, swallow pride,
Cynicism, turn aside,
Revere the one they crucified,
It's the art of growing old.© M Day 5-Apr-1991