At night the silence gathered cold
And seeped in to the shivered dreams.
A wearied man, a life untold,
As lines face-crept and painted old.
A life time of what might have beens
And were regrets so sadly worn?
A frown witness to life now past.
A face with dolour, sad, forlorn.
A word escaped from lips of scorn,
As the years flew by,decades fast.
Ah Spend time with this gentle one
And soon you'll learn of wisdom gained.
A life that long ago begun,
A father, husband, friend and son.
A life of kindness e'er sustained
And the frowns are but life's drawn lines.
And the scorn is just whispered praise.
And sadness is just passing time.
And weariness the clearest sign.
Approached the man, the end of days.
A regret life will be lived no more.
A regret kindness will have to cease.
A regret to end these happy chores.
A regret he did not count score,
All days before eternal peace.
A Poem a Day Day 54/365
This handsome, life-lived older gentleman was photographed by my best friend Simon Whitton when we travelled through China in 1996.
It was taken on market day in Kashgar, Xinjiang Province. This dignified, kindly, elder Muslim Uighur man sat with a stoic expression and a pride in himself, his language and culture.
It was taken 25 years ago. Is this gentleman alive today? I would love to think he has reached a ripe old age of 100 or more.
Regrets? He has probably had a few, but I hope more positives than negatives in his life.