My world grows smaller now,
not through accident or fate,
but through the quiet pruning
of my own choices.
Roads I might have taken
fall back into the mist.
Rooms I used to fill with noise
stand empty and at rest.
Yet as this world contracts,
something in me opens
not flesh, not name,
but a clear, spacious seeing
that asks for nothing more.
Age moves through me
like wind through tall grass,
bending what was rigid,
smoothing the sharp edges
of a long-guarded self.
Ego falls away
petals in late autumn,
softly, without argument,
leaving only the branch,
bare, honest, awake.
Now the days pass
clouds over a still lake,
appearing, dissolving,
needing no witness
yet fully seen.
As time takes her share
of bone and strength,
I meet her as a river
meets the sea
no resistance,
only the simple turning
into what was always there.
In this smaller world,
I bow to each moment
as it rises and disappears,
and find a quiet freedom
in knowing that nothing
was ever truly mine
to keep.
Rated for Everyone 
Categories:
PoetryTime Eats Everything. Collab with Claude
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Summary:
My world is getting smaller now,not through natural causes but through choices I have made.So it shrinks before my eyes and at the same time I grow larger,not in flesh and blood but in consciousness.
Everything seems clearer now that age is consuming my ego.
Everything seems more peaceful now that age consumes my body.
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Post / Chapter Author
This is a thought-provoking piece.
Thanks Fia….
Powerfully penned, Peter. Excellent write my friend. Appreciate you.
Damian
A quiet, stoic acceptance. Letting go takes real strength. I am beginning to learn myself. Thank you.