Mature Man

He stands, a man unpolished, true,

Not flawless, but with wisdom new.

His prize? The battles he has won,

His only rival, himself.

A grace divine upon him laid,

His face reflects the life he's made,

Not etched with worry, etched with years,

A mind that clarity still steers.

He knows the difference, shade and light,

And in his heart, a love song's plight

May echo softly, bittersweet,

Of love surrendered, incomplete.

He cherishes his God above,

And family held within his love.

His destination, heaven's gate,

He pours his soul in actions great.

This wisdom wasn't born in ease,

But forged in trials, on shaky knees.

The "oops I should have" moments stung,

The vows of "never" often sung.

Countless failings stained the past,

Yet "Now I know" emerged at last.

From errors learned, his spirit grew,

A blessed soul, standing strong and true.

His age is not a measured span,

But lessons grasped, since life began.

Some learn it quick, some find the way,

But life's a blessing, come what may.

He knows he'll stumble, fall, and fray,

Perfection's light will not hold sway.

No claim to knowledge, vast and deep,

He knows some secrets he will keep.

But one thing changed him, set him free,

From youthful pride and certainty.

The Mature Man, with humbled start,

Bestowed upon God his very heart.