My Marvelous Machine:

Long and long ago the world was young, fresh and vibrant, scented with hope,
And the sun’s gentle caress, warm as a mother’s arms, was from dawn to dusk
On each and every joy-filled day of quests and wild adventures,
And the night skies were diamond strewn, redolent with mystery and endless promises.

It was then I was gifted a most extraordinary and wondrous machine.
Gifted, not sold, gifted. No price did I pay for this marvel.
Its complexity was incomprehensibly indescribable and it seemed to
Self-maintain. It could run - run and run and dance and skip;

It could leap higher than the clouds and curl smaller than a sleeping hedgehog. 
It could climb mighty oaks and swim through rapids teeming with piranhas - perhaps! 
Its adaptability and usefulness was so awesome, I reflect, that it was easy to take it for granted.
If it was broken it always somehow, with little fuss, righted itself and ran and skipped on.

Indeed, each such incident seemed somehow to make it stronger. It appeared 
That the more this wonderful gift was pushed, the more incredible it became.
And as my time grew longer in days and then in years my glorious machine adapted faithfully
To all my needs. There were, I should note, other superficially similar machines in the world

That was my playpark; some were older, some were newer, some were really quite peculiar!
But none compared to mine with its loving attention and understanding of my ways,
And yet, each of the others in their turn was uniquely made to astonishing tolerances.
Ah, but wait, for I have not yet told you the ultimate miracle of my multi-miracled machine;

I wore it! Yes, I wore it and it fit me like a glove, tailored so finely,
With such an eye for detail that it met my every need to perfection.
And I must tell you, also, another amazing thing. The machine was so
Complex it marked the passing of time, yes every God-given second,

Minute, hour and day and moment by moment it adapted, changed, recorded
And marked also with great precision each experience upon my very soul!
And then, oh then it occurred to me in but a single moment of jangling, dissonant time that it had 
Lost its flair! I looked and thought and sulked and pitied it also, for it had given such service.

But now, how the mighty had fallen; it creaked, groaned, it wheezed and needed to be coaxed along. 
Allowances needed to be made. Its marking of the passage of time seemed faster and yet
The machine, seemingly inexorably, went more slowly. It faltered, no longer
Running and skipping nor dancing. When first I became aware of how my marvelous machine

Had lost the shine from its chrome and often only ran on eleven – or ten! - of its twelve
Cylinders, I faced deep despair, for I had loved its perfection, selfishly, as it suited
My needs, and lazy as any man can be I had joyed in the undemanding comfort it
Afforded my life. But – but - but I have learned something; something truly breath-taking!

To call it acceptance would be wrong; that sounds passive, resigned. No, an epiphany! I’ve learned 
My need to relove my marvelous machine. I embrace each creak, groan and sputter of its engine
As a reaffirmation of the glorious life I still have in my playpark; there is, too, a wonderful paradox
As time flies by faster and yet I am obliged to live life more slowly, I have time to smell the roses.

I see again the sun shine from dawn to dusk, and embrace the mystery of the diamond strewn sky. 
And though I don’t run and skip, I have found greater joy exploring less the outer world and more 
My other miraculous machine, my mind. And it is there I can fly, soar like an eagle through space 
And time. I now have greater freedom than I ever dreamed possible. Who could want for more!