Such wondrous vision comes with age
Unfettered by the naked eye
Enlightening the turning page
Of life’s sweet truths;  it cannot lie
Short-sighted though our eyes may be
When looking at our outer world
If truth is told, we dare to see
Through mirrors of our Self, unfurled
How well we hear as we grow old
As we are deaf to noise pollution
And learn to listen to our Soul
Whispering softly of absolution
Our feelings, like a child’s, are free
To love and mourn, to laugh and cry
And most of all – to learn to be
Ourselves, in truth, until we die
And even then, as we pass on
To other worlds, as yet unknown
We know, deep down, we have not gone
In our transition, we’ve come home…

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