The old man was gone,
Emptiness reverberating
With his long waiting
Amidst noisy solemnity.
Expecting nothing,
While hoping for revelation,
He simply gave up,
Leaving behind his piety
And daily study.
The ancient practices grown stale
With repetition
No longer interested him
And so in leaving
Found what he had sought all those years.
Breath came easier
Outside the space of ritual
Drawing a circle
Around what is religious truth,
Keeping out the truth
Known to cuckolds and mothers
Holding their babies
Born in pain but not suffering.
Thus the child smiled
As the old man drew close to see
What had laid hidden
Down deep within his searching soul
Waiting for release.
Old age looks back on yesterday,
Staring at events
That are the causation of now,
Searching for meaning.
Thus despair and hope coalesce
Into a moment,
That holds us still while time flows by.
Behold the future
You have sanctified by waiting,
Tomorrow’s events
Cradled in our present wonder
Are our legacy,
While the child smiles at our last song.
©2013
roncebik 