Fifty

By: Nathan Fletcher

At fifty,

the noise narrows, restrains.

The nonsense thins, parts.

The room emerges.

I trust fewer faces.

Fewer voices valuable.

The inner circle circles.

Pride, now a shattered shield.

Discernment now protects my peace,

sight sharpened by suffering,

the steady line between noise and knowing.

Wisdom has taught me which battles to choose…

and to become a dragon slayer.

If it isn’t burning,

bleeding,

breaking,

or not breathing…

perhaps…it can wait.

Time is tight.

Energy is expensive.

Peace is priceless.

Bees don’t beg flies

to believe in honey.

And flies are awful pretenders …

I do not debate decay.

I do not wrestle with wreckage.

A lion does not linger

over leftovers.

There is a place where unholy knowing stirs, certainty fades…

a quiet place where awareness and alignment meet.

I have failed

fallen, fumbled, fractured

more than I have finished first.

Failure forged me.

Fire formed me.

Pressure produced patience.

I am steadier now.

Rooted. Resolved. Refined.

Not because I know everything,

but because I finally bow to what I don’t.

“I don’t know”

is a mature mercy,

a clean answer.

Fewer opinions

means cleaner shoes

and less embarrassment.

Many things in life are hard.

I have learned to choose my hard

to live with purpose.

I choose the hard

that builds backbone, not bitterness.

Character, not chaos.

My yes is solid.

My no is settled.

No drama.

No cloaks of words.

No diluted devotion.

Truth leads alone,

measures the time,

redeems the life.

Trust is trust for a reason,

not for a season.

Access is not connection,

and not every connection receives access.

I have suffered savage sorrow.

Loss that leveled me.

Grief that gutted me.

Pain that pressed every weakness to the surface.

And still… I rise,

a living lasting Ebenezer

carried through it all.

Scarred,

but standing.

Broken,

but believing.

God is presence, Logos

He is the steady center

An ancient, welcome wicker rocking chair

Within me woven

Because of Him, I speak the life lived.

At fifty,

I am steadier in spirit

and stronger in spine.

Less impressed.

More intentional.

Less reactive.

More rooted.

My heart…

weathered wide willingly…

is filling.

Grateful for breath, belief, blood, and burden.

There are lessons layered

like rings in an old oak.

Naivety is at one end.

Jadedness is at the other.

Alignment is at the center.

I have walked through fire

and refused to become smoke.

And that…

that is enough.