Regrets
Posted: Sun Jul 17, 2016 4:00 pm
The old man sat on a paint chipped bench,
unregarded by passers by.
But one, a child, with inquisitive mind,
who perceiving the trace of a tear in his eye
climbed onto the bench and sat close beside
and spoke with a candour, as only a child
can effect; uninhibited, curious, but gentle.
The old man looked down and he smiled.
“Why are you crying”? inquired the boy.
“Are you sad because you are old?
And have you been sitting alone all day?
Can I help? Are you lost? Are you cold?”
“Lost? Cold? Yes I am both.
Though not in the fashion you speak.
My clothes though old, are close and warm
and no undisclosed shelter I seek.
I am sad for words I neglected to say;
for smiles I declined to return.
For compassion, charity, faith and love
and ties I chose only to spurn.
I weep for virtues I scorned in others;
temperance, humility, trust.
I am old as you note and I’ve much to regret
of my life. Now I do what I must,
to lighten the carry, to temper the pain,
to search beyond me for peace.
For the silence of mind that I’m craving;
for the sweet nothingness of release.
But this discourse won’t lighten my burden.
Wipe the slate of these myriad regrets.
Confessing my self absorbed essence,
won’t balance my tally of debts.
So I sit here young man, in this quiet place
sensing my time is near.
And I thank you for listening; for caring.
Though much I have spoken I fear,
is confusing to someone so youthful.
But let me just say as we part.
Let that warmth and that tenderness guide you.
Journey always with love in your heart.
Wazza
unregarded by passers by.
But one, a child, with inquisitive mind,
who perceiving the trace of a tear in his eye
climbed onto the bench and sat close beside
and spoke with a candour, as only a child
can effect; uninhibited, curious, but gentle.
The old man looked down and he smiled.
“Why are you crying”? inquired the boy.
“Are you sad because you are old?
And have you been sitting alone all day?
Can I help? Are you lost? Are you cold?”
“Lost? Cold? Yes I am both.
Though not in the fashion you speak.
My clothes though old, are close and warm
and no undisclosed shelter I seek.
I am sad for words I neglected to say;
for smiles I declined to return.
For compassion, charity, faith and love
and ties I chose only to spurn.
I weep for virtues I scorned in others;
temperance, humility, trust.
I am old as you note and I’ve much to regret
of my life. Now I do what I must,
to lighten the carry, to temper the pain,
to search beyond me for peace.
For the silence of mind that I’m craving;
for the sweet nothingness of release.
But this discourse won’t lighten my burden.
Wipe the slate of these myriad regrets.
Confessing my self absorbed essence,
won’t balance my tally of debts.
So I sit here young man, in this quiet place
sensing my time is near.
And I thank you for listening; for caring.
Though much I have spoken I fear,
is confusing to someone so youthful.
But let me just say as we part.
Let that warmth and that tenderness guide you.
Journey always with love in your heart.
Wazza