Monday, April 19, 2010

A Poem for Peter

We worked to the rhythm of forklifts,
Surrounded by men with strong backs;
On our shift was a worker named Peter,
Who had spent his life filling the racks.

He spoke very little, but whistled a lot,
To a tune that nobody knew;
One evening we spoke for a minute- no more,
But in that minute my consciousness grew.

"What are your plans for the weekend?"
I asked him one Friday night;
"Ice fishing," he answered quite briskly,
Then he smiled; an uncommon sight.

I laughed 'cause I thought he was joking,
I was young in body and mind;
"Ice fishing," I put forth naively,
"Is nothing but a waste of your time!"

He didn't stop smiling or walk away,
Instead he looked deep in my eyes;
He spoke very kindly in a fatherly voice,
The way of the aged and the wise.

He said:
"I guess it is something you must do to understand."

Many years have since passed and the warehouse is closed,
Life's current has swept me away;
To another life without concrete walls,
Where I write poetry, I sing, and I play.

One morning while I was meditating,
Sitting still and clearing my mind;
My child asked what I was doing,
When I told him he wasn't unkind.

He didn't judge or laugh at me,
And he was curious, to be sure;
Then, when my child spoke to me,
His voice was wise and pure.

He said:
"I guess it is something you must do to understand."

I don't know what happened to Peter,
But the story that lives in my soul;
Has him happily living in Heaven,
Looking down through an ice fishing hole.

1 comment:

  1. I really like this one, Steve. It brings out emotion. Makes me think. It truely is amazing the impact someone can have on your life, even just through passing. That will pop up when unexpected. I had a friend once who was so random, and came out with words of, what now became, wisdom. I think of him often enough.. This poem reminds me of him.