Love in Time

I age and am less capable of physical acts. I am less capable mentally. I age, and am lessened.

I am lessened, in various capacities. And I understand.

I am less, in certain ways, than I was. Perhaps I am more in others. I couldn't say, as that is not the lesson of aging.

I age, and am open.

I am more open, as I am less of what I was, and more of what I am having become less.

The less there is of me, the more there is of the Lord.

Time is not the enemy.

I am the enemy.

What I am that might refuse to be less is the enemy of what I might be that is the Lord's.

I tire, I do not recover easily. I cannot rally, or simply decide to be other than tired, weak. I have will, but am handcuffed by simple incapacity.

This is beauty.

This is the tree that bears less fruit, the river that dwindles, year by year. Less, less.

I will fall.

I will fall.

I will make way for love.