Photo Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/Estella-472873000
Wonder where the hard years went
Up and down and lost like blood and sweat
The monumental dramas have all but disappeared
For maybe love and peace
Can win the day, yet again
I passed a bridge, calling maturity
I broke into a dive, of self-acceptance
It wasn’t a matter of effort
I think it’s a function of
Synaptic pruning, lost memories
All the grown-up people say
The wine from these grapes
Tastes sweeter now, like wonder
Taken at a distance, with some measure
Of quiet detachment, where failure
Dulled by grief disappears
And joy is the only thing that can
Possibly take its place
No longer with boots of the hunter on
The chalk of a thousand sunsets
Has left its mark in nodding understatement
Of all the dreams left like alder leaves
Posterity knows Autumns well enough
That by disks of splendour, all that something
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Viv Drewa - The Owl Lady 