Embrace the Lines

My contract with wrinkles is a history carved. I acknowledge how swiftly I’ve outwardly aged. Best and the worst, suddenly a future now halved Strokes in a map book, each travelled page after page. Unlike lines on the palm, where the future is told My wrinkles chronicle laughter, sorrow and pain. Many serious thoughts and decisions so bold A canvas of wear, signs of a life of campaigns. Studying further I see the stories expressed Summoning moments of anger and portions of joy. I see marks cut by tears and memories suppressed. Albums of pride and fabulous times I've enjoyed. There are lines for surprise and a couple for frowns Twinkles of contours that match up with my eyes. An artisans sculpture for life’s ups and its downs Shapes created by prayer, and a glance at the skies. Furrows fashioned from worry, passed on by the brood Countless ruts that droop low, from those times I’ve been sad. Amazement and stress, all combinations of moods Little dents for the wonder and scars for the mad. I look deep at my face and I’m wholly beguiled Complete types of emotions their pointers and signs. But the crinkles and creases my face has compiled, part’s of my story, and I’ll embrace all of my lines.