Thursday, January 22, 2009

a poem ... spin cycle.

spriteskeeper asked us to spin a poem this week. bah. put me on a schedule to come up with something creative ... and i often choke.

this is what transpired (from my potential choking session).

a memory of an old man that my 6 month old stella and i met in a grocery store. well ... a man that she met. i wasn't really involved in the conversation. and funny thing is? cora just met an old man at the clinic last week ... that completely talked to her ... and ignored me. maybe it's the blue eyes. they capture people.

old man.

in the middle of life.
that day-to-day shit that steals too much time …
the (supposed to be) quick stop at the corner store to grab the (of-course-we-don’t-have-it-on-hand) ingredients for a quick dinner for 3 … "nope make that 6 … did i mention that i invited so&so&so over for dinner?"

in the middle of life.
that quick trip became a … a … mind altering moment …
the old man (that was frightening me a wee bit) as he followed us from aisle to aisle. pausing and staring and staying rather close behind. not too close … but, close enough.

in the middle of life.
that grocery store … i still remember which aisle.
next to the ketchup and condiments … the jellies and jams. just past the canned fruits and vegetables. third aisle on the left. just before reaching the crackers.

in the middle of life.
that man … an older black gentleman.
a man that had noticeably seen more years than many. a man that was at the very opposite end of the spectrum on his road from you, my baby … who had very much just begun her life.

in the middle of life.
that whisper of a voice … scratchy and worn.
he caught up to us. he bypassed me and moved in your direction. he leaned in close. he looked into your eyes. he told you that you were a wise and beautiful soul. he told you that you would live a long and blessed life.

in the middle of life.
that missing tooth smile … directed at you … my little one.
you smiled back. you cooed and giggled. you said (in your very own way) that you understood. you said (in your very own way) thank you.

in the middle of life.
that soul of a man … that truth-filled and wonderous soul.
he taught me to forget about that day-to-day shit that wastes too much time. through you … he showed me the importance of the journey. it’s not the destination or the potholes or the turns. it’s the journey and enjoying whatever it is … even as you stumble along.

in the middle of life.
that day … and still today.
i wish i would have said thank you. because that old man gave me something more powerful than money, more important than advice and more magical than a bunny in a hat. he gave me something that i cannot even find a name for. but it envelopes my heart. and opens my eyes. and i couldn’t be more thankful for the gift.


Sprite's Keeper said...

Wow, that is lovely. It must be the eyes. Older men and women flock to Sprite and completely ignore me so they can talk with her alone. And they carry on the best conversations, with her granting them smiles and giggles which makes their days too. What an exchange. Great Spin. You're linked!

Heather said...

Beautiful!!! be talented....

Allison said...

very beautiful...and oh so true. The elderly seem to focus in on the babies - they whisper and the babies understand.

anymommy said...

Loved it. I could see the whole scene so clearly.

Debbie said...

Wonderful. I wish I could write like you.

Shangrila said...

What a beautiful moment, captured beautifully! <3

Keely said...

Gorgeous! You made me tear up a little just picturing it. It's so beautiful when elders choose to share their wisdom instead of being grumpy old farts.

For Myself said...

I think he knew what he was talking about.

Lucky you for listening.

little.birdy said...

Aw, sweet story! And he was spot-on too. ;)

Casey said...

Wow, isn't it strange how we find snippets of wisdom when we least expect it?