I met this wise old man
who plays melodies in the clouds.
He sometimes looks chinese
with a hint of greek shepherd
old porcelan Buddha patina .
he doesn't make rain or shine
distractedly reading his newspaper.
Wise old men know their place
they like Mozart and Pavarotti
enjoying a cappuccino in Vienna
and long strands of white sand .
These gentlemen, speaking
swiss from the mountains
flemish of the shorelines
and french in ''un sonnet pour Helene ''...
I met a old wise man
who has no dog to accompany him
he only loves the free cat people
roaming the rooftops .
I met this old sage
who always has his morning coffee
at the same table .
He casts an amusing glance
to the pretty absent girls
tasting a croissant mood
and delegating with elegant manners
to their cup of tea,the power
to decide of who not to look at ...
I came across this old thinker
from one ocean port to the other
passager on a vintage transatlantic
philosophizing with Hemingway
on the queen Mary or normandy deck
who knows ? Lost memory...
And closing the great book of centuries.
Wise old man, out of a children's book
or isn't it just my reflection
in the distorted mirror of reality ..
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Author:
lorenz (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: November 5th, 2024 07:30
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 17
- Users favorite of this poem: Ellen Marsell
Offline)
Comments3
Could be. Wisdom grows like the trunk of a tree discarding those branches not needed. After years only what is important remains. A lovely write so well worded and very reflective of those things that hold meaning.
And never forget your childlike soul !
That my friend is the root
Such exquisite writing!
Wisdom is not just knowledge and years, but the ability to savor the moment, to observe and see the world with greater depth and simplicity. I think of it this way.
The wisdom of the craziest !
beautiful. enjoyed reading it..
Thank you Nafisa !
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