RETURN

The Old Man

by:Dave Terry-09302006

On a windblown sandy beach, leeward of a sail, watching the waves of a turbulent sea, a young boy contemplated his future while observing the worlds that he could see. Out on the waves, flying on the wind, an old man steered himself freely across the sea, having fun, smiling contentedly.

"Oh, to live my life on the sea," thought the boy, daydreaming in the wind, "to sail for school, living on the shore would be totally cool, I could ask for nothing more."

But the kid who dreamed could not read the mind of the man who'd sailed through time falling into the trap of trying to be a child, sailing on his dreams forever.

"Once I was a kid," thought the old man, "kicking my heels, filled with springtime, never knowing I'd be an old man someday. Loving life, never questioning why, I fell into an eternity of youthful possibility.

"Living on a sea of tomorrows, riding waves of fantasy, gaining experience with each new day. I didn't care about my future, filled with possibility: My only desire was to ride the wind, blowin'o'er a sea of time, and feel the sun warming my day while I sailed my life away.

"I was in love, wandering through eternity, wondering how I would learn to survive. Life was a breeze, never knowing the meaning of fear, things were bright and alive as long as I left the world of responsibility behind."

I remember one hot and windy day (he thought to himself) I watched an old man of the sea. With wrinkled eyes, sunburned nose, hair all thing and gray, he had been my star, a hero of his day. He moved across the sea, filled with experience and skill, using knowledge I could not yet imagine. He had wisdom, a style and years, loving the life surviving through skills. He was all I dreamed to be and I decided to live his life with a passion.

"How innocent the view of the tender youth, "spoke the wisdom of the old man, "riding on the wind and waves of life; knowing not the fears and strife of the daily struggle to survive.

"When I was a child," spoke the ancient soul, "speaking as a child, understanding as a child, I knew not the depths of a life on the sea. Now, as a man, toys once used for play become the tools I use each day and dreams were shattered by daily chores. In those days of youthful innocence, I could never have sensed the cruelty and brutality hidden deep in the sea, but now the salt of life shapes me in to a crystal of itself, square and brittle to the eyes of a child who dreams.

"Now, a hardened heart pumps waves of time, moving my thought, falling behind, blind to youthful possibility. Once I was free," he mumbeled to himself, "sailing alone chasing the setting sun, enduring any fall, never seeing, never imagining an end.

"Each new day returning to the sea, aging in a the sun, laughing at time, I continued to run, riding her waves of the ever-changing tide. Sweet mother and lover of mankind, supporting my aging body; she relaxed an overtaxed mind. But all of that was long before, before I met the cruel hag who sat at the edge of the shore.

"Tiring quick, slowing down, chased by the ghostly image of nagging responsibility, a tear falls from the eye of the sun. I feel my body falling on the run, leaving nothing but salt behind; feeling her touching, holding, kissing me with salty tears; she was my love. I'll give her my body and all my years, for within the sea I see myself, a child again, having fun.

" Oh, to have my youth, daydreaming in the wind, I'd give all my knowledge and skill to be a child again, watching the waves of a turbulent sea, never knowing responsibility, able to sit for hour in the sun, watching older men dreaming up ideas which they'd not yet begun.

"So, young children playing in the sun, live your lives as if they'd just begun, for someday soon you'll be just like me, with cares and loves and responsibility, and though you feel the same wind each day, your kids will see you bleached and gray and call you an old man... an old man of the sea."