Essence of Life

The essence of life Is not the grand, shining prize— Not the towers we build, Not the praise, not the size. It is not in the gold That I chased in my youth, But in hard-spoken love, And in stubborn old truth. It’s not in the noise Of applause or acclaim, But in calling your child By their little pet name. It lives in the touch Of a calloused old hand, In the strength to let go, In the grace to withstand. I once thought it lived In the sharp edge of pride, But it is more in the nights When someone stayed by your side. It’s in nursing a wound That no one can see, In forgiving yourself Before your soul goes to sleep. It’s in coffee gone cold In a hospital bed, In the things that you meant But never quite said. It’s in songs half-remembered And quiet shared meals, In the hush of a prayer When you don’t know what heals. It’s the smile you give, Not the ones you take; The truth you speak For compassion’s sake. Not the lies you guard, Or the words you bend— But the honesty shared That helps someone mend. The essence of life Isn’t found in control, But in losing your way And still loving it whole. It’s the friend who returns Though you pushed them away, It’s the smile from a stranger That carries your day. It’s in holding your breath As the sunset turns gold, And the ache in your chest When you’re finally old. It’s the stories I tell Though my voice may grow thin, And the silence that waits For the next breath to begin. So if you're still young, Don’t rush through the race. Let the moment unfold— Feel the sun on your face. Because life, my dear child, Isn’t just to survive. It’s the love that we leave— That’s the essence of life.