Well Worn Sole

I'm just about to turn 70 something The book of reflection seems suddenly thicker Regrets occupy only a line or two And the rewards head each chapter in bold Life has qualities I'm sure found no where else Qualities unique to the human experience Some say life's a puzzle not yet assembled I say it's a rainbow waiting a pot of gold Celebration for the illusive 'soul' Celebration for the parts of the whole Celebration for the young gone old Celebration for the shoe's well worn sole Life's so intense and making it all work Is a balance of the brawn and a brain At 70 something I concede to the ladder As the brawn has long since hopped on the midnight train To make it all work it's a matter of balance There needs to be selfless contribution Sharing without measure giving without notice Living without fear and ball and chain