Be you a babe in arms,
Newly flush with life,
An infant excited,
A lover who has never felt more alive.
However young and fresh faced
However delighted, dulled or weary,
The experience of age is in your every move,
Your every thought, your every instinct,
Each breath you take.
Imagine the storyboard of your life.
The inspirations and ecstasies,
The struggles and despair
And, just for a moment,
Gaze back and see a fluid pattern.
How the river of your life has twisted and turned
How it has gathered, coalesced
And how it nudges you still,
How it eases you gently forward.
Like the hands of the clock that shift so softly,
Though we can’t quite discern it,
Notice how your own golden harvest piles up,
And with it its tithe, both in its glory
And ultimately its tax upon you for life’s bequest.