When I look at an old woman's face,
I instantly remember my grandmother,
And remember how I used to touch
Her soft skin and tried to straighten
The wrinkled folds and the jutted veins,
As she watched me do this and smiled.
When I see an old couple walk along,
Hand in hand, pausing here and there,
I feel like joining them, listen to them,
Accompany them up to a segment or two,
And patiently hear their retrieved stories
Of wisdom and experience gained from life.
But when I look at a couple of lovebirds,
I feel no desire of playing a goose berry,
As they are usually so deeply absorbed,
To be oblivious to the passage of time.
To them, I only wish in solemn solitude
May their stream of love never run dry.
When I look at the happy children at play,
Boisterously frolicking here and there,
I wish to join them, not as what I am now,
But as a child that I was, fifty years yore.
Unaware they are, of what they will miss,
These golden moments, a lifetime bliss.
When I look at a new baby, just born,
Hardly a few hours old, yet they yawn,
Look with open eyes at their labored mom,
Then I remember my happiest moments,
The time when my first son was born.
He too stared at his mother, with a yawn.
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Poet's Notes about The Poem
29 September 2013
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