Why do we rush to grow up?

This poem speaks of growth and grace, of finding beauty in life’s race.

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Growing old, a soft embrace, time dances by with quiet grace. It whispers past a fleeting song, and yet I feel I’ve just begun. The “best years” they say are here, but they vanish like smoke in air. A dream too soon, a wish too bright – 

Why must they fade before the light?

I’m blooming slowly day by day, learning, loving, finding my way, what a beautiful process to experience and create.

Why rush?

Why chase the fleeting breeze when every moment is meant to tease? I’ll take my time, savour the bloom, for life is a garden and I’ll make room. So yes it’s scary, the swift descent, but it’s a life well spent. Growing old with love and grace, I’ll savour each and every trace.