Sunday, August 3, 2014

Old Man

Old is beautiful
I lack the eyes to see this
Still so young
I am seeing only the flash exteriors
Fast things catch my fleeting eyes
Trained for lust and not love
The fast buck.
I’m in the race.
We called it a race.
This marathon.
No one knows their own finish line.
He speaks to me softly, elderly
His wisdom is in this day
Practicing the presence of God, lovingly
I’m am terrified, enraged.
The young woman plump with youth
And buttocks moving radiantly
Takes my eye away from the inevitable
A distraction I’ve turned to for years
Now looking into his eyes
I see my own future
If only I can be so blessed
To know grace, redemption and peace
When now I’m just irritable, restless and discontent
Searching a new cause for my malady
Outside myself, not within
The world is cruel
God is cruel to give me the after knowledge
I needed so badly before
And now he is speaking to me slowly
His breathing laboured
It’s hard to pay attention
Looking past him to the beckoning darkness
His light obscures.
Love I remember he says
As I flitter away unwilling to face
More ignomy
A very special worm
Listening still for  the litany of guilt and shame
Now drowned out by a  blue grass band playing
"Love and forgiveness"

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