A quick poem

“All my life”, the old man said. “I’ve been sitting here,

Feelings like a pinwheel motion with no journey. Waiting…. just waiting.

When will I move on, when will I get to take it?

That chance that comes to catch myself from falling.”

He’s given her his love, but she doesn’t want to take it.

He finds no appreciation, with a tinge of bitter agitation.

He can’t be strong enough, he must go on.

He’s moved on. He still receives her letters and he’s read them all.

He tries to make sense of her stories, but distance and time have faded his feelings.

He had to go numb to survive.

So he’s closing his eyes and he’s praying,

“Let me live, let me love, let me be alive.

Let me know you.”

But to his surprise, what he thought was long-buried.

It awakens and reaches it’s hands from the sand, and grips his heart and speaks.

“Let me know you.”