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Tended

Some things are best left alone,
not abandoned, but tended,
the way a keeper oils old wood
without wishing it new,
the way a work of art
is tenderly restored,
true to the artist’s vision.

There is beauty in the aging,
in landmarks worn with history,
in the face that holds its years in wrinkles
like a landscape holds its weather,
shaped by what has passed through,
each treasured for what it is.

No one would dare replace a Stradivarius,
its tone rich and vibrant from years of use,
nor choose the sharp bite of a newly bottled bourbon
over one smooth and mellow, aged for decades.

Time’s gifts arrive slowly,
in the grain of wood,
the lines of age,
the sip of bourbon,
the depth that only years can give.

Beauty unfolds with age.

Poetry by Melinda K Zarate