rain drops fall upon her head
try push her to the ground
but she stands tall against it all
and strength and love are found

the torment and the cold
of the never ending drops
feed her very core with life
and eventually it stops

the hardships that we face
are not always as we see
sometimes they just happen
to be exactly what we need

the petals soaking wet
stem dripping down with tears
but still the flower stood
in lieu of all her fears

then the sun came out
as the rain began to cease
and her purpose came to light
and she enjoyed a life of peace

I'm thankful for the trash I see
because I have my sight
I'm thankful for all the injustice
it gives me something to fight
I'm thankful for that annoying noise
and for my capable ears
I'm thankful for things that scare me
so I can learn to defeat my fears
I'm thankful for stress with family
it means I have family around
I'm thankful for wandering lost
and so happy now to be found
I'm thankful for being on crutches
I appreciate the gift of walking
I'm thankful for dumb arguments
because at least it means we are talking
I'm thankful for all of my failures
at least I know that I tried
I'm thankful that I was rejected
so I could learn to let go of my pride
I'm thankful when people use me
so that I have a chance to forgive
I'm thankful that Jesus died
so that I could have life to live
I'm thankful for when I was lonely
so I could learn to appreciate friends
I'm thankful that you read this poem
and this is where my story ends

To grow old young is to lose inherent innocence,
And to see the finite nature of life, even while death is years
Off. It is to throw off the follies of childhood and don the weight of
Aging. Yet to grow young old is to be ignorant; in bliss and freedom, weightless.
To find happiness in life and to laugh at the world, worriless
And light, able to take flight. But which is better?

It is true that wisdom is prized, and joy is coveted.

To grow old young is to sacrifice the beauty in youth–
Surrender it to the leaping fire that refines the ambitious into
The heavy-burdened souls of the wise. People must grieve the death
Of endearing ignorance and instead, see sorrow and mistakes remake youth.
But to grow young old is to put a smile on the faces of those around them.
To fly away with dreams and to get back up after failed attempts and
Laugh off trials. Yet it is also to set people’s jaws grinding as they
Wonder why they have not grown up. But that is all the fun.

It is true that wisdom is prized, and joy is coveted.

To grow old young is to embrace the long run with diligent
Care. To embrace trials with patience and to comfort those who
Are caught in the sorrow of watching youth and joy die. This is good.
To grow young old is to be light-hearted and laugh often and to
Make others laugh too. To be there to lift others up when they fall.
And to rise again and again, no matter the fail. This too is good.

It is true that wisdom is prized, and joy is coveted.