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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required 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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