Walking through the woods one day I found myself short of breath,
My knees were weak, my back did creak and I was freezing half to death,
To rest up and catch my breath I sat upon a great stone,
But in my haste I did not see that I was not all alone.
On this stone there was a small man, he lay there deep asleep,
In an attempt not to wake him, I tried to move without a peep.
But as I quietly tried my hardest to simply slip away,
He sprang awake from his rest and asked me what is the day.
I apologized for waking him, and stated today’s date,
He thanked me for my info, and asked me why I wait.
I told him I was resting, that my trek had made me tired,
He said life did the same to him so he sat here and expired.
I was confused by his words, they were cryptic to say the least,
He then listed everyone he’d ever seen, man, woman and beast.
Once my breath had returned I said farewell and was back on my way,
He stopped me for a moment and said he had more to say.
I listened to his parting words and continued on my walk,
Reflecting on this strange little man and our strange little talk.
Back at the cabin I enjoyed a fire, and let it warm my soul,
I brewed some tea, sat by the stove and slowly stirred the coal.
As the coal stirred, my thoughts did too on what had passed,
I remembered the specific words of what he said unto me last.
To this day I do not know if he was merely drunk or wise,
But I’ll never forget the words he spoke as I looked into his eyes,
“Do not live your life in waiting, sitting on a stone,
But rather take a path and walk it, and make of it your own.”
Maybe he slept there specifically, to give advice like that,
But who could say he’d known the rock upon which I’d have sat.
Either way the words matter, but not for how and when they were said,
They only matter how I choose to use them, when I replay them in my head.
