This Old Man
This Old Man
(Photo by Mike Hall)
This Old Man
On a bright summer day,
I saw an old man
who was sitting cross-legged
and cool in the sand.
He was playing a song
on a well-aged wooden flute.
I asked what song he played,
and he said it was “The Truth.”
The waves crashed on the rocks
as I listened to the background.
The old man just looked at
me without making a sound.
“Listen to the patterns,” he said.
“Listen to every single note.”
He put the flute to his lips
and the music began to float
like the branch in the sea.
He was giving a concert,
and I thought I was for only me.
But then I looked around,
as I listened with my fears.
I watched the audience grow,
as I was blinded by the years
of being a selfish man
that never really cared.
I saw animals live together
in a world we all shared.
The audience included the birds,
snakes, wildflowers, and bees.
As I heard the flute music,
I was seeing a new reality.
It was all there before, and I was
in the wrong state of mind.
I was able to see life better
from a man who was blind.
The song came to and end,
and the guy walked away.
I thought I’d try to follow him,
but,I had nothing to say.
I believed all this was a dream
and I’d wake up safe in bed,
but I could not ever forget
what the man played and said.
I opened my tired eyes,
and I was alone in my room.
I wanted to go to the beach,
since the sun was close to noon.
I stopped” myself because,
I could meet this old man.
His truth was a message I
was not able to understand.
I was tormented by this
time of restless indecision,
and the full reality of
the strange man’s vision.
The afternoon was near,
and something had to be done.
I made myself get up and thought,
I ‘d go to the beach just for fun.