At my age, I have experienced nature’s benevolent touch

How it nurtured me, as I walked amidst its beauty

Humbled by its power and might through the years

But should anyone just tinker within my mind long enough

They would discover a fetus still unborn, awaiting birth, seeking knowledge

So now I stand on tiptoe on a brilliant, cold night

My soul, discarded of its night shirt of age

Free of aches and pain and pretense

Squeals with delight as it reaches with outstretched hands

Towards the distant stars to capture them

Disguised in the cold, pristine air as  pinpoints,

Stars twinkle in laughter at my minute essence

Amusing themselves by burning in the black abyss with intense heat

That never touches me

At my age, I ponder the overwhelming truth

That my years were no assurance of knowledge of myself

Seeking answers to questions that cannot be answered

As my lifetime passed instead.