Growing up while Growing old

Archaic silence reasons with my soul Not the latest model, and not really a classic Just a girl who trembles with expectation When the sun regards my flowers with a smile, Sending her delicate shafts of hope Coloring each of my thoughts in beautiful blessings While the rain seeks to nurture the petals Who laugh beneath dew and glimmers of light Breaking through the soundless breeze Who carries my dreams, roaring into eternity Old-fashioned, sometimes though – I feel my heartbeat And mumble to the wind, a song who remembers What it must be like to stir the old hearts, the souls Who color my life in yesterday’s glory, The stories without words, stories that remember But are never heard, stories in poetic murmurs Healing the heart and happening, so sure Reflecting the eternal with each wave of assurance, A destiny, wrapped in quilts of endless truths Old age is the one solace from an emptied innocence.