Life begins much like an empty book

Pages waiting as a tranquil brook

 

How will daily life compose each page?

Breathtaking words at every age

 

Words starting with childlike, joyful prose

Sentences fill with love, head to toes

 

Paragraphs arrive, smiling each day

First page finishes, much like crochet

 

Chapters now gather, picking up speed

Transmission accepts each tender reed

 

Pages adding up, never afraid

Days, weeks, months, years gather . . . no charade

 

Life reaches the twilight of its time

Not pausing, not even for halftime

 

Who will ever read this manuscript?

There’s time to add a final postscript

 

With empty pages, life’s book began

Words maturing, always in God’s plan