I, in my informative years...

To arrive at this age, which is no age at all, is not only from counting the years, but all that has gone before and is yet to come.
     The heart continues to beat - well at least it does so for now, and I, perhaps now in my more informative years, must embrace each day, every hour and moment, with an exuberance that knows no bounds or limitations, no more longings for everything I can't have, nor wish for anymore.
     For I have reached a pinnacle where I can still jump puddles - wander to peer over the next hill - love life for all it presents - fly across seas then peering down at rivers, silvery with oncoming night - towns and villages aglow with lights - mountains and valleys - deserts with only sand.
     There is a whole world at your fingertips, waiting.
     Why must it wait? If you see the world in a grain of sand, don't let it slip through your fingers. There shall be no more forgotten mornings when old age creeps upon me, as I am informed of the years that have passed me by and still yet to come. I count no more birthdays, as they are meaningless with all that life may land at my feet.
     Where flowers bloom bright and lovely in meadows, mountains are clad with soft autumn mists, rain falls upon roses, and winter shrouds me in frosts - for that's where you'll find me, happy, still free.