Aging has its way to awaken,
An acknowledgement of time taken.
To waste discriminating,
On preferences to wish.
And which race best represents,
God to identify...
Those favored to have been picked.
Aging does this...
'Awareness To Awaken Thing'.
Aging has its way,
To clarify nonsense.
And juvenile youthful foolishness.
With this to eventually,
Comprehend and understand...
A seed to plant it.
Growing from a bud to bloom.
Radiates an unexplainable beauty.
Before it seems to quickly wither.
Leaving behind,
To reminisce in one's mind.
From time to time.
More frequently to find this done,
It seems.
A doing that becomes,
Appreciative of the process.
Experienced to witness,
How each step not to regret...
Has a way with aging,
To anticipate that next stage.
But not that much in a rush to explore it!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem