This
past week has been a rough one for me. I was hospitalized with a very bad
stomach infection, and actually wondered at a couple of points if I was going
to die. To make a long and miserable story short, I was able to recover, and I’m
home today with my family and with a new perspective on life.
I
wrote a poem a few days back, and I understand its meaning even more now than I
did before my ordeal. When I was laying sick in my hospital bed, I remember
waking and feeling infinitely better, and knowing as I watched the sunrise that
I was lucky to see its beauty once more. How many people passed away in the
night, never living to see that beautiful change of the sky? I was given a good
lesson: never take for granted the life you’ve been given, live every day to
its fullest, and know that the things of this world are all going to decay and
rot with time. Live and love like today is your last day, and never be ashamed
of time spent having fun with those you love.
Enough
rambling. On to the poem…
Journey’s
End
The
hurried man pressed on
Alone,
through the wood
Each
step moving forward
Quickly
as he could
No
nose for the smells
Nor
eyes to sightsee
A
schedule maintained
Meant
places to be
On
weary pace forward
By
chance he did meet
Fellow
traveler, all dozing
At
mighty oak’s feet
This
second man smiled
Content
wave his greeting
The
first scowled and moved on
No
time for chance meeting
What a queer way
to live,
The
first thought of the second
One must strive
to ignore
These
distractions that beckon
Yet
imagine surprise
When
the first man did see
The
second man once more
Asleep
at the tree
“Have
I circled?” he wondered,
“Or
is he this fast?
How
else could this be
That
last man that I passed?”
The
second sat up
With
a wave and a smile
“Would
you care to sit, friend,
And
rest for a while?”
“Why
do you tarry
And
waste so much time
With
challenges to face
And
mountains to climb?”
“I’ve
climbed my own mountains,”
Said
man number two
“I
walk the same path,
But
I’m different than you.”
The
first shook his head,
Smiled,
mocking and sad
“You
must learn to rush
If
good things you would have.”
“Oh!
Never,” he answered
While
patting the tree
“The
things here worth having
Are
closer to free.”
With
a snort and a shake,
The
first man pushed on
Seeing
no sense
In
this second man’s song
Yet
no matter how frantic
No
matter how fast
The
man made his pace
The
second he passed
First
once and then twice,
A
third time, you see
The
first man caught up
To
that man by the tree
And
too soon came winter
The
trees fell to gray
The
man became weary
As
night replaced day
He
stumbled and tripped
And
the schedule did fall
For
all clear the date
When
that night comes to call
“Glad
to see you!”
The
second man said
As
the two lay immobile
On
hospital bed
“What
happened to beauty?”
The
first wailed in fright
“I
worked to find peace,
Once
I reached this twilight.
Yet
I’ve found only pain
And
despair in the cold.
Now
the beauty is gone
And
I find myself old.”
“The
beauty is here,”
The
contented man said
A
wizened old finger
Gestured
to the head
The
first man thought hard
For
mem’ry that satisfied
But
his life had been built
On
a system that lied
“You
can enjoy the breeze
Or
grasp for the wind
But
death waits for us all
At
this journey’s end.”
Randall Madden
September 21, 2014
