A writer and a musician meet in a park... |
I went to the park just to sit for a while And escape the demands of the day I saw an old man at one of the benches On a tattered guitar he played I gave little attention to his second hand clothes Or the dental work he couldn’t afford Instead I was captured by the joy on his face As his tobacco stained fingers strummed chords He didn’t seem to notice that I was watching him As song after song he did strum I thought, “This is a man who has a true gift It’s a shame most people just see a bum” What has he gone through, where has he been That life would leave him in such a condition Does anyone care about the talent he has Enough to allow him one chance to audition The sudden silence interrupts my thoughts As I notice he’s looking at me I give him a round of approving applause “Oh play more, Sir won’t you please?” He played another song or two And asked me, “Why are you still here? Nobody has wanted to hear my songs For some fourteen-fifteen years I was in a band, you know We traveled all around the world To concert halls and stadiums And Lord, you should have seen the girls!” He paused for a moment to remember A toothless grin swept across his face I waited as he enjoyed the memory Of when he was in a higher place “We thought we were invincible We had it all, we used to say Until one day, I’d had enough And just decided to walk away They went on to greater successes And won many Grammy’s and awards You’d know them if I said their name But me, I guess I just got bored. We’d play the same favorite songs Night after endless, exhausting night I wanted to create, and do something new But I always lost that fight I need my music to come from the soul Not from some hit on the charts It’s a way that I can communicate And put some peace back in my heart We all have some kind of escape It could be sports, or God or chess For me, it’s this old beat up guitar I turn to when I get stressed I’ll even bet that you have something To make yourself and the Universe one It calms you when you’re all knotted up And comforts when the day is done” I gave him a knowing smile And watched him slowly nod his head “If I had my guess, I’d say you’re a writer” I felt my face turning bright beet red He gave a hearty belly laugh I couldn’t help it and chuckled too As it subsided, I had to ask “Please tell me how you knew?” He said, “I noticed when you saw me, You didn’t try to quickly leave I knew you had an intelligent mind To not cast judgment on what you first perceive I know that I don’t look so good And probably smell even worse Some people think that I’m real scary ‘Go get a life,’ they’d rudely curse. But you weren’t scared, and didn’t run Instead, simply sat and observed You noticed what so many ignored And gave me the respect I deserved" He picked up that old Martin And played me one last song I felt it reach to the core of my soul As I softly hummed along “I guess I should be moving on,” he said As he put his guitar in the case “Don’t you ever stop that writing, Girl It makes the world a better place I hope our visit made your day brighter And I’m glad that you enjoyed my tunes Now go on home and write me a poem Of how you made this old man’s afternoon" 9/28/07 |