Growing Old is Not for the Faint of Heart

Friends my age are quick to remind me when I make statements about being old that I am NOT old.  But I AM growing older.  I am aware that my capabilities, efficiency and resourcefulness have diminished.  

I thought of what my mom was fond of saying, "Growing old is not for the faint of heart."  But isn't there a blessedness to humility, a strength in weakness, an intimacy to dependence?   

With these thoughts in mind, I made my first attempt at a Lyrical Sonnet. 

Completing the Work Begun

The month and years run quickly to an end

While I move ever slower through a day

Forgetting many things along the way. 

The faint of heart find not old age a friend. 

With greater effort I my garden tend.

My eyes with trouble focus on the page.

My ears hear muffled words that others say.

From pain and illness I am slow to mend.

But in my soul His handiwork I see.

The final steps of sanctifying grace.

Becoming like a child, gray hair makes wise.

My weakness gives more strength to those in need.

Dependence turns my gaze upon His face.

The meek are blessed and heav’n shall be their prize.