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It enters one's life quietly; as silent as
the falling snow: the need for a few
additional hours or minutes of sleep.

As the years progress and the hair takes
on a silver sheen the bones and muscles
that sprang into action so readily in one's
youth now yield to the slightest overuse 
and seek out a comfortable place to relax
and rest.

The old clock in the hallway chimes eight
times in the evening and the thought of
retiring enters one's mind and the comfort
of the old four poster bed beckons as does
the warmness of the multi colored quilt that
has sheltered you these many years.

You awake in the morning and realize that
your night was filled with exhausting dreams
and your body protests the first attempts
to rise and you lay there in the warmth and safety
of what has become your haven from a world
that you no longer understand and that ignores
the wisdom that you offer as the result of many
decades of experiencing life.

As the years slowly pass and the tiredness creeps
deeper and deeper into one's body, as if seeking to
consume one's very soul, the distant light that 
represents relief glows brighter and brighter and
the mind begins to long for the release that is eternal sleep. 

          ©Charles Hampton Gragg, December 20, 2015  
Note from author: This write is not intended to be morbid but
 instead is intended to cast light on how aging may be viewed by some
in the twilight of their lives.  A simple philosophical view.  No more, no less.

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