The Wonder of It All

          As the magic of the music whispers “How Time Slips Away”… it is so easy to fall into that trap as our years advance. We look ahead and see our lives as more than half empty and we cry over all the things left behind. In a loud voice we cry out “I’ll never be able to do, see, touch or smell that again… it’s all gone, stolen by time”.

          Seemingly trapped in our advanced years, we often all too often lament things now gone from our lives. Children have grown and left the nest, our eyes are not as sharp, our health and vigor not as strong, our outings now limited to trips to the doctor or hospital. Depression would claim our very souls if we submit, but that is not God’s way…

           The memory is a very mysterious and wonderful thing, truly a gift of a loving God for those of us whom He has graced with years. Life may have worn us down, and age coupled with disease may have stolen the mobility of our youth, but memories carry us away into early times.

           We can once again carry the ball as we race down the field in a game played over forty-five years ago because it is but a thought away. God’s gift of our memories brings back the roar of the crowd, the sounds of helmets meeting shoulder pads, even the brightness of a stadium under light in a cold dark fall night is now forever at the tip of our mind. Friends, many now gone, family now passed beyond, are still alive is that precious gift of memory.

           We each have a choice, we can sit and lament, or we can allow our minds to whisk us away to those wonderful times in the past. Once again we can look out over long ago street scenes forever alive in our mind's eye. With our memories we can once again discover the wonder of it all…

~ © 2005 – David L. Griffith ~
For My Special Lady

If you enjoyed tales spun on this page please use the bar below to share it with your friends who also might enjoy other poetry written by the cowboy night writer.

Enter recipient's e-mail:

Mail To The Cowboy

NEXT      BACK      HOME

"There is no cure for birth and death save to enjoy the interval."

PalletMaster's Workshop®.