I met a man, a man as old as old could be, while I was traversing by the sea
He sat crossed legged on a sand dune high, peering out
over the ocean blue
Staring as if he were expecting a ship to come into sight
with sails full in the wind

"What, Old Man, I quietly inquired, "are you watching so intently for?"
"The grander scheme of things," he tersely replied. His voice sounding like an incoming wave.
Bemused, I awaited a further explanation of this mysterious reply.

"When I was a young man," the wrinkled old man began, "I dreamed of so many things.
"Of seas sailed, of lands explored, of riches made. But
they turned out simply dreams.
"So I settled down, married, had a family," his voice
grew wistful.

"But they're all gone, all gone," a sigh escaped his withered lips.
"And I have not but partial memories," he shook his sparsely grayed head as if to shake thoughts loose.
"There must be more than this to life," he sadly looked into my eyes.

"So I sit here by the sea, where it is said it all began,"
His voice became strong again.
"For out of the waves, the mists, the foam, there must be
a grander scheme.
"And there I will make my home," his eyes stared piercingly
daring me to question him.


The Man by the Sea (c)2003 Quentin Clingerman