Looking back on life is like painting in reverse,
The colors deepen as time places one day upon another.
You peel back the layers like onionskin
And newspaper, gazing back
Across the history that you have lived.
Thinking of your children chasing butterflies
And the golden moments of their laughter.
Memories are held, one by one, within the soul,
Their sweetness refreshed with the blessing
Of hearts recall.
And you stand like a figure in a Rockwell print
Smiling face, graying hair, and memories of times gone by.
Someday your children will stand as well
Looking back, remembering, and thinking of you.
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