Be Kind

No longer racing for the prize.
Now we savor morning sigh and see new wonder in old eyes.
Joy is not the fire of youth; it's the ember that still glows.
We gathered years like silk and rain,
And wear them as they show.
The hurried paths are worn and deep,
But softer trails call us to keep.
A quieter rhythm starts to chime; we're harvesting joy from borrowed time.
Now love walks lighter, hand in hand,
Our shadows long and kind.
We are the dreamers who stayed awake and left no joy behind.