The Vine

The sadness shows upon my face
The wear and tear of age
The wrinkles are all paths I took
My Story: page to page
Just like that leaf that withered on the vine

I’ve seen my hands from plump to worn
The skin as dry as bone
My face: a mud and honey mask
My feet: a pumice stone
I cure my age just like I would fine wine

Apply ointments, gooey skin creams
In generous amounts
Too bad a quick-fix won’t apply
To my life when it counts
Before I used to think that Time was mine

No choose-your-own-adventure
Though choice is ours to claim
All paths lead me surely to Your Grace
My heart will do the same
I like to think the choices are all mine

No matter how rocky life has been
You always made it sure
How close You stood beside us
We’d never known before
We were always looking for a sign

With my gnarled, graying hair
My body broken too
At time it seems it isn’t fair
My spirit’s bourne from You
How could I break or snap a golden line?

It is a comfort to know You’re there
Walking with us as we go
Our journey’s only leading us
To what You already know
Life is filled with tasks that you assign

You are not the grape, You are the vine