A PATH THROUGH THE PARK
The old man walks through the park
paying no attention to the path beneath his feet.
He is deep in his own thoughts and,
without being aware, he sits on a bench
under a newly green oak tree
on a Spring-fresh Pittsburgh morning.
He thinks: It is so curious to be both so old and so young
at the same time.
It is surprising to see myself in a mirror
and finding an old man
looking back at me.
It helps explain to me why
I am "uncle", "dad," and "grandpa"
and addressed as "sir" sometimes,
and "sweetie" and "darling" by waitresses.
but it feels so not me
to be seen that way.
The world still seems new and exciting.
Children still play on the swings.
I see things around me that still seem
fresh and unexpected.
I know that I am still growing and changing
and that I am not exactly the same person
I was at breakfast this morning.
Sometimes I get restless.
I feel unsatisfied.
Life seems too quiet and predictable--
"boring" is the word I want.
And has this always been true of me?
Yes, I think so.
But now even more so than before.
And what has made it so?
A young couple walks by.
They smile and say hello
but they are clearly contained
in a micro-world of their own making
that must surely be made of
pure love.
They touch one another with
casual ease and look into one another's eyes
to the exclusion of everything
but what they are feeling
at this moment.
They kiss and hold one another
in that special way
that lovers do.
And I begin to understand
my own restlessness.
I remember those times
and the casualness of
a loving touch, a kiss.
There was no wondering if or how
such a touch
would be responded to.
No concern about crossing
an invisible line.
Always knowing that my touch
and my kiss would be welcome
and always welcoming
touches and kisses
given to me.
Knowing what I miss,
what am I to do?
Perhaps it is time to travel again
to distant places.
Maybe getting hugs and kisses
from my family
will fill in some of the empty space
in my emotions.
Perhaps some of my friends
can fill in some of the gap.
I am reluctant to take the next step,
even knowing that I will never be satisfied
without that intimacy.
My door is not closed to the possibilities.
I am not actively seeking them either.
I don't quite know
how I feel about that.
Older or younger,
sometimes the path through the park
leads to nowhere
in particular.
Jim Morgan--May 31, 2013