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Rated: E · Poetry · Experience · #2255023
One less year of my youth, one more of adulthood



Twenty-Two

By Noah Youngson






Twenty-two.
The clock ticks, louder and louder
One more year, or one less?
There is no going back

For I have no choice,
But to look her in the face,
And take her by the hand
Such grace from the silent killer

Before I know it, I will begin to gray and wither
In full accordance with Mother Nature,
And under the strict guidance of Father Time

Both of which create but a strange couple
For we know neither their birth nor their death
And yet they provide us both
Leaving us only to be grateful

One less year of my youth
As anyone who has left it knows,
It is not spared for long

Age and Meaning,
The unmistakable progeny of Time and Nature
Always find ways to play together;
Sometimes causing trouble, other times tranquility

I am fairly fond of Age and Meaning
For we have played together some already
But alas, I have yet to meet their parents
And no doubt I will soon enough

© Copyright 2021 Noah Youngson (njyoungson at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2255023-Twenty-Two