The inner life of an old man

The inner life of an old man

You have no concept of my thoughts
or of secret escapes from which they spring
but should you stop to talk awhile
you will be regaled by wonders
you’d no idea existed until now.

Look to my past you will see the world
as it has come to fruition in the days
past of struggles and chagrin
and gain better insight as to why
things will simply not be as you wish.

For the world does not steal a look
into your own hopes and dreams
nor does it go as you expect it to
for forces beyond your ken or mine
draw it down corridors insane and brilliant.

Books I’ve read that held me enthralled
of discovering Egypt and the pharaohs
and lands of ice and others of fire
of islands with beauty and rare creatures
or vistas terrible indeed to walk through.

Traveling out to these mysterious planes
I discovered that prior expectations
were disservice to the true adventure
of life on its own terms, bold and flat alike,
but so much more fulfilling than imagined.

Loves I have had, and many more denied,
like Beethoven, thwarted in my desires,
and yet enveloped in the sweet nectar
which draws both butterfly and wicked bee
sweetly rewarded for my puerile efforts.

Do not stay too long, for my tales are mine
and do not serve to get you on your way
for each adventure must have its hero
and if you listen to my stories too long
you deny your own place in the sun.