As We Grow Old Poem by Yvonne G. Engel Davis

Some people say that growing old
is not so great and so IÕm told.

Some people say we must be bold,
but others simply just grow cold.

As from the beginning, we are born
in a state of void.
So does it end when our time comes,
that from whence we came we come again.

And, from the beginning we know of
nothing.
Some seek out knowledge while
others merely play along.

And, in this world of question and
uncertainty,
Who is to say which path a man will take?

And, in this world of mystery and
awe,
Who will believe that there is a God?

Some wonder if there is a purpose to
life,
While others continue to struggle and strife.

And, who is to say that there is no
purpose in death?
And, who is to say that our lives are
not pre-ordained?

And, who can say when looking up
above,
That a presence is here and much
beloved?