The Old Man And A Boy
The Old Man And A Boy.
I think a lot about inspirational
poems, and I enjoy reading other poems to gain an understanding of the authors
thinking. It provides for me a tremendous lift for the day that is yet to be
lived.
This poem
came to me shortly after our first and only grandchild was born, and yes he is a
boy. I think I saw in him many things about myself, although he is still an
infant, and I was reminded of the many mistakes I have made during my lifetime.
I suppose in a way I wrote this poem for
him, perhaps to encourage him to dream big dreams, and never be afraid of
failure, to keep his eyes on the stars and his feet firmly planted here on solid
ground.
The Poem
At night when I lower myself to
bed, I've a friend who sleeps with me
For deep in the caverns of my heart
lives a boy whom I cannot see.
The boy’s heart is beating strong and sure as
the old man slumbers on
He disturbs the old man in his dreams to remind him
to go on.
The old man cranky with age and
pain, scolds the child, hey! Slow it down
But he continues to romp and play
and he shouts! Let’s go down town.
The old man snorts and awakens himself,
turning over on his side,
He’s awake now in that never land and his eyes pop
open wide.
It dark, as dark as ever could be,
but he swears he sees the child
That child that lives deep in his heart the
boy that was hard and wild.
The old man, with a tear in his eye, rolls
over on his back again
But sleep won’t come till the morning sun and he
thinks of days that have been.
That little boy that’s deep inside
so full of vim and vigor
With dreams of being what he’d like to be his
dreams grow even bigger.
I wish I could sleep the old man said; I’m troubled
the whole night through
I’m troubled because of you my child you missed what
you didn’t do.
I’m reminded by you of the days I
lived, how quickly did they fly
One moment your young the next your old as
the days go swiftly by.
Don’t sing and dance to the song I sang, but listen
to an old mans wit
Pay attention now, don’t knot your brow just listen, be
quiet and sit.
It’s too late to tell this boy of
the places where he may go wrong
For now he’s locked inside that shell never
to be young and strong.
Never to be young and strong again, never again to
fly
The old man sits in his rocking chair and watches as the days go
by.
Dusk is here, the sun sinks low,
and the night is alive with gems,
As I look out the window I see in myself
the boy that lives within.
Russell R Cranmer
Jr.
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