Author: Varner, Mark

Father Time 2006
 
He showed up a year ago, the old man with the time worn body and the care worn face. He was so much younger then! Look at him now and you know hes not elderly; hes just plain old no disrespect intended. He doesnt care what you call him anyway. He knows hes done his share of working hard and living harder and hes been called worse. Hes been a good man. Hes seen friends through hard times and hes taken every opportunity to love. Then again hes been cold and hard as obsidian and just as hard to see through. The one thing thats for sure, hes been misunderstood by most everyone. Seems like no one can really know him then and there. One must have a distance in space and time to really wonder over this man. But we do all wonder. We recoil, we rejoice and we vow to try again the things weve failed at and do again the things we loved. Something in this person brings out the very best and the very worst in us.

Hes a well-rounded and knowledgeable old guy. He can tell you about the taste of snow, the names of flowers, how hot the Mojave got this year, who had the most rushing yards in the NFL. He could probably tell your future but youd really have to read between the lines. But go on, ask him whatever you want, this wise elder. Ask him under that big old spreading black oak tree. Hell sit and talk to anyone who wants to try and understand the meaning of life, the universe, everything. So few can find the time to listen but if you do hell tell you about it. You can hear the facts and the fancies hes been witness to. Take it all with a grain of salt. Hell tell you that you need to find truth in the deep well of your own experiences, the teachings of the wise and the voice of your spirit. Hes just an old man who has done a long days work.

Maybe he was a Titan in a world of men. Maybe he was Atlas and the world rested upon his shoulders for a span. Day to day the rest of us run about on our petty errands like ants; we work, we play, we tire, we sleep. Heaven and earth spun on the axis of his shoulder and he did tire but he did not rest. He knew that when all was said and done his term was an instant. He turned the present into the past and now he can say farewell.

The sun goes round and the seasons pass. Look at the trees, look at the sky; its the end of the year. Its a hard season, begging for change. And change comes in the form of a youth. Beautiful and strong, funny and troubled, tomorrow has the face of a child. The old man passes the torch, with love and certainty that each new child, each new year will find us closer to God.


 
Posted:  1/1/2007



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