Stay young and beautiful...if you want to be loved

She stares out from her window ledge, once perfect was she, now the story of her years of vigilance written upon her face. Eyes, that once would have looked serene, now look desolate. Yet, in her decay, she is beautiful. Look deeper and her dialogue of the time she has watched makes her sublime, not just old, more characterful. As I look at all the fissures and crumbling stone, I see how wrong we are about our own beauty.

What is this obsession with youth? Do we really see no grace or worth to age, experience or the quiet gentleness of a life lived? For what does youth offer that age does not give understanding or validity to, my journey has been nothing but made worthwhile as age has given me perspective. Joy to the days of experience tempered by the anvil of time, when knowledge of yourself makes steel of the wet clay that is youthful desire. Happiness in the trust that comes with a rock-bed of consciousness of yourself, unlike the moving sands of immaturity.

So as I wandered past all the magazines selling youth, I thought of my weathered Angel, lusted after her aged and beautiful visage. Joy to those that see beauty in each passing day and the inevitable passing of time....embrace me, for I am what I am, I too was once young but have shed the characterless skin of youth and have made a face worthy of my life.