[One gray hair...]
You stand there in all your glory, the reality of age,
Time is moving, like a strong medicinal sage,
Never standing still, flavoring all with touch,
You show me where I’m waiting and show me where I rush.
How can you feel a hole for something you never had,
A simple hand to hold,
One moment, then you crash.
I’m looking in a mirror,
This face feels new to me,
And all because I see one hair,
It beckons me.
It beckons me to move,
Audacious I can be,
You cannot lose a hand that you let go,
That you set free.
This is only the beginning,
One day this head will be
Full of silver glory,
A life lived full indeed.
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