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Pastimes : ISOMAN AND HIS CAVE OF SOLITUDE -- Ignore unavailable to you. Want to Upgrade?

To: ISOMAN who wrote (268)	8/5/1999 6:12:00 PM
From: Tom	Read Replies (1) \| Respond to of 539

>>The park bench was deserted as I sat down to read: >>> >> >>> >> Beneath the long, straggly >>> >> branches of an old willow tree >>> >> >>> >> Disillusioned by life with good >>> >> reason to frown, >>> >> >>> >> For the world was intent on >>> >> dragging me down. >>> >> >>> >> And if that weren't enough to >>> >> ruin my day, >>> >> >>> >> A young boy out of breath >>> >> approached me, all tired from play. >>> >> >>> >> He stood right before me with his >>> >> head tilted down >>> >> >>> >> And said with great excitement, >>> >> "Look what I found!" >>> >> >>> >> In his hand was a flower, and >>> >> what a pitiful sight, >>> >> >>> >> With its petals all worn - not >>> >> enough rain, or too little light. >>> >> >>> >> Wanting him to take his dead >>> >> flower and go off to play, >>> >> I faked a small smile and then >>> >> shifted away. >>> >> >>> >> But instead of retreating he sat >>> >> next to my side >>> >> >>> >> And placed the flower to his nose >>> >> >>> >> And declared with overacted >>> >> surprise, >>> >> >>> >> "It sure smells pretty and it's >>> >> beautiful, too. >>> >> >>> >> That's why I picked it; here, >>> >> it's for you." >>> >> >>> >> The weed before me was dying or >>> >> dead. >>> >> >>> >> Not vibrant of colors: orange, >>> >> yellow or red. >>> >> >>> >> But I knew I must take it, or he >>> >> might never leave. >>> >> >>> >> So I reached for the flower, and >>> >> replied, "Just what I need." >>> >> >>> >> But instead of him placing the >>> >> flower in my hand, >>> >> He held it mid-air without reason >>> >> or plan. >>> >> >>> >> It was then that I noticed for >>> >> the very first time >>> >> >>> >> That weed-toting boy could not >>> >> see: he was blind. >>> >> >>> >> I heard my voice quiver; tears >>> >> shone in the sun >>> >> >>> >> As I thanked him for picking the >>> >> very best one. >>> >> >>> >> "You're welcome," he smiled, and >>> >> then ran off to play, >>> >> >>> >> Unaware of the impact he'd had on >>> >> my day. >>> >> >>> >> I sat there and wondered how he >>> >> managed to see >>> >> >>> >> A self-pitying woman beneath an >>> >> old willow tree. >>> >> >>> >> How did he know of my >>> >> self-indulged plight? >>> >> >>> >> Perhaps from his heart, he'd been >>> >> blessed with true sight. >>> >> >>> >> Through the eyes of a blind >>> >> child, at last I could see >>> >> >>> >> The problem was not with the >>> >> world; the problem was me. >>> >> >>> >> And for all of those times I >>> >> myself had been blind, >>> >> >>> >> I vowed to see the beauty in >>> >> life, >>> >> >>> >> And appreciate every second >>> >> that's mine. >>> >> >>> >> And then I held that wilted >>> >> flower up to my nose >>> >> >>> >> And breathed in the fragrance of >>> >> a beautiful rose >>> >> >>> >> And smiled as I watched that >>> >> young boy, >>> >> >>> >> Another weed in his hand, >>> >> >>> >> About to change the life of an >>> >> unsuspecting old man >>> >>