Sought
“What is it that you seek?”
I asked the old man, wizened and weak.
Over his sunken cheek, a tear rolled down,
A wistful smile took over his frown.
“Days long gone, over 70 years now past;
My days of introduction to a world so vast,
Of when I was but a child in my mother’s arms,
From times so frail I demand no alms.”
His hair so white like flakes of snow,
Covered an eye, but the other did show —
A mysterious reflection of a world so bleak.
I asked again, “Then what is it that you seek?”
“Summer mornings and wintry nights,
Days of youth, of courage and fights,
Of passionate love and a broken heart,
Juvenile days of which I need no part.”
The wrinkles on his skin, his scars of time,
Earned not given, through sweat and grime,
Were wrapped up in raiment colorful and sleek.
I asked yet again, “Tell me, what is it that you seek?”
“The laughter of my children ringing in my ears,
Unconditional love dissolving all my fears.
Being husband and father, shaped me wiser, yet kinder,
Of perfectly lived memories I need no reminder.”
With his long hunched back and crooked nose,
The geriatric figure struck quite an odd pose.
I had grown tired of discourse, I was at my peak,
I asked, “For the last time, what is it that you seek?”
“I seek discovery, of new sights and places,
Food and drink from lands of unknown faces,
I seek adventure and excitement in the here and now,
To the ravages of time I will not bow.”
He dabbed his wet cheek and took a step back,
He had places to be and so much to pack,
Then I stared deeply into the eyes of the inspiring figure,
Before I turned and walked away from the hanging mirror.
