A little over a month ago

I witnessed something I had to write down. I don't know why, but I wanted to write it on here so you could read about it. A resounding part of my Korean experience.

"It's a beautiful Autumn day and there is a wonderful park on the east side of town. An old man sits on one of many benches surrounding a small pond, either man made of simply remolded. Children are playing opposite the pond on the other side of a bridge that cuts through the center of this quiet pond.

Peacefully the old man sits, looking out of deeply chiseled eyelids. After so many years it must be difficult to keep them open for they seem almost shut as he meditates upon the scene around him. The wind blows gently and the sound of cars and buses are carried away on that gentle breeze, gently dancing with the lose hairs on an old mans head.

Time passes and he sits. Watches. Thinks. He pulls out a candy, wrapped gently in plastic, and works his leathered hands in an almost confused way as he sedks a weak point in his treasures armor. Ah, at last! It unwinds in his hands and he puts the reward lightly upon his tongue as he throws the tattered plastic on the ground. The wind gently blows as if sighing, blowing the plastic away, cleaning his house for his children."


Ali said...

Have you thought of compiling your thoughts & experiences and writing a book? You write so incredibly well & so vividly...just an idea! :)

Anonymous said...

yer musix is awesome power