Age

Hey, youngin's, there is no end, only other beginnings.

Age
   by Odin Roark

Like a tumbling rock
Once a jagged outcrop
Defying the elements
Now part of time's ultimate caress

Duration
With its edges worn
Earlier molten flames
Now cooled by erosional changes
Makes way the exit
Rounded mobility cautious
Yet spirited

Home now
Where one's numberless front door entries
Forever of memory
Beckons the distant walk
Embracing the halls of lessons
Successful achievements adorning walls
In frames of permanence
While failures needing no reminders
Remain content as density
Cluttering closets never sorted

How unique this maze of corridors and rooms
Leading to the back door
Where barring one's hesitation
Death will not extinguish life
But provide a new form and direction

For lest we forget
Death is not a period
Merely a comma