Hope: The Beautiful Promise Of Tomorrow Poem by Julie A Smith

The little old man
with a crooked back
and a kind yet wistful smile
gazes out at the shimmering ocean
beckoning to him in the distance.
Lost in thought
he ponders
simpler times,
days gone by,
and a girl with a pretty smile.

"Ah, to be young again, "
he thinks to himself.
Youth is wasted on the young,
as the old saying goes.

He has no regrets.
The mistakes he made
taught him well,
but yet
still his heart aches
and at times
he is lonely.

He misses his sweet Maria
with an intensity
that sometimes awakens him
in the night.
She was his muse
and his joy
and his love.
His beautiful wife
gone six years now
(My, how the time seems to fly) .
But, she was NOT his life,
yet she played quite a starring role.
A good distinction,
the man has always thought,
is that life should be shared
and enriched
but never overtaken
or overwhelmed.

Startled,
the little old man's reminiscing
is broken
by a tiny little sparrow
looking forlorn
but yet brave
with his little broken wing.
The sparrow takes a little hop
along the glistening sand
and looks up with curiosity
at the little old man.

"Friend, I know how you feel, "
the man whispers with a conspiratorial wink.
Truth be told, sometimes the man
has been broken in spirit
and broken in his grief.
Yet, somehow,
a tenacious, persevering will
helped the man fight on.

But now,
his frail body
was starting to feel broken,
as age took its usual toll.
(He was approaching age 90,
it is important to note) .

The little old man felt an affinity
for the little sparrow with his little broken wing,
and it brought a second smile
to the man's weathered face.
The sparrow brightened his day
and reminded him to never give up.

Slowly, the man's gaze slide up the horizon.
A sunset was starting
to pierce the sky.
"Where had the day gone? "
the man wondered.
A hint of a beautiful, stunning pink timidly peaked
bashfully
across the horizon.
Skittish
yet hopeful.
The spectacular sight
of the blossoming sunset
caused a hope to spring anew
into the little old man's heart.

Every day is a gift.
There is the UNKNOWN PROMISE of tomorrow.
Beauty can shine her brightest
even in the darkest hours.

Thus, whistling a cheerful tune,
(one I think anyone could recall) ,
the little old man shuffled off
with hopeful expectation
of a light brighter than any dawn
and the beautiful promise of tomorrow.