BB Grey–musings

“Nature does not hurry, yet everything is accomplished.”
— Lao Tzu

I left behind boyhood’s warm embrace,
To chase manhood’s fleeting, hurried pace,
Thinking joy was locked in that new space,
But found instead an empty, hollow place.

Then spent my years in restless, vain pursuit,
To find the boy, to lost joy impute,
Believing he could make my heart refute,
But time had turned my search forever moot.

I robbed myself of what was rightly due,
The lessons each stage could gently imbue,
In their own time, to build and to accrue,
But haste had warped my vision, skewed my view.

Patience I failed to grasp or to comprehend,
The way life’s seasons naturally wend,
Blaming life for the rush, the broken trend,
When it was I who forced the speed to bend.

Now that boy is lost to fleeting time,
The man he rushed to be, a shade in prime,
And as I face this final, steepening climb,
I see their echoes woven in my rhyme.

Yet with this age, a gift has softly grown,
A patience that life has carved and sown,
The rush has stilled, the storm has blown,
As life’s once-endless path nears the unknown.