Poems by Pat Fleming

Seven AM and I sat at the light,
Watching the train chugging by.
A day like the rest, on the way to my job,
Just routine with no feeling inside.

The morning was frigid and snowy,
Just thinking how cold he must be.
But there I could see him wrapped up on the stoop,
In that blanket he found on the street.

That cold, concrete stoop, at that old, empty store,
The place that for years he called home.
He sat there each day, never meeting your eyes,
Just contented to be left alone.

The weeds by the tracks were his bathroom,
His food was a bottle of wine.
His clothes were all dirty and tattered.
He was drunk or passed out all the time.

To see him you'd think he was no one.
He was barely a man anymore.
A failure to the ones who once loved him,
And a burden to the rest of the world.

But those who once knew him in the days long gone by
Would tell you how wrong you would be.
For in fact, it's quite true that this lost, broken soul
Was once just like you and like me.

He woke up every morning in a home of his own
That he shared with his son and his wife.
He worked every day as a painter by trade
And thanked God every night for his life.

People who watched him admired his ways.
He was caring and decent and good.
He worked harder than most to provide for his son,
And for neighbors he did what he could.

Life was a struggle, and times could be bad,
But he always found strength to go on.
He wanted the best for the people he loved,
Never dreaming that soon they'd be gone.

It happened in winter on a dark, snowy day,
In a storm that had moved in quite fast
That his wife ventured forth to pick up their son,
And neither survived when they crashed.

From the day they were buried his friends rallied round,
But he was lost despite how much they tried.
And even today when they speak of him still,
They say it's as if they all died.

And when I last sat at that light, by that stoop,
I saw he was no longer there.
The store still sat empty and was now boarded up,
And I wondered if anyone cared.

But later I learned on that stoop where he lived,
That place that he once made his home
He too passed away on one cold winter's day,
Long forgotten and left quite alone.

So should you pass by a lost soul such as this,
Be careful how harshly you judge him.
For you can't ever know how loved he once was,
Or how valued his life may have been.

Each day we wake is such a gift;
No moment's guaranteed.
Tomorrow isn't promised,
But to fate we must concede.

We cannot know our futures,
How long or short our lives.
We simply do the best we can
Until the end arrives.

And in life, what's most important,
In the scheme of every day,
Are the people who stand by our sides
As we venture on our way.

Those cherished, loyal, patient souls,
Who take us as we are,
Who look beyond our foolishness,
Our frailties and our scars.

How often do we take the time
To lay our hearts down bare
And tell them how we truly feel
And just how much we care?

Do we freely give a compliment
And acknowledge efforts made?
Or do our own quite fragile egos
Make us feel far too afraid?

Have we tried to overcome our pride
And forgive another's wrongs?
Or do we cling to hurt and anger
And carry grudges far too long?

Do we share our blessings willingly
With those who are in need?
Or do we hoard our own good fortune
Out of selfishness and greed?

It's the people all around us
Who make us who we are.
It is they who save our erring souls
And fill our lonely hearts.

So it's time we show some gratitude
And not wait another day.
For before we even know it,
Our chance may slip away.

It's past time to say I love you
And forgive another's sins.
We must let ourselves be vulnerable
By letting others in.

For one day, tomorrow will not come;
We may not meet again.
For inevitably, for each of us,
It all comes to an end.

So go ahead and say the words;
Make today a start.
Don't regret your silence;
Share the language of your heart.

Time passes all so quickly,
Moments melting into years.
It's true, time waits for no one,
And the end is always near.

We live a life so tenuous,
So easily it's gone.
And no matter what we each endure,
Time keeps marching on.

We take refuge in the moment,
And we cling to every day.
We pretend it's all forever,
Just to keep the end at bay.

We hearken back to childhood,
When the world was filled with treasures,
And our lives and what the future held
Was beyond what we could measure.

When our family was our everything,
There was still no place like home.
And with our best friends by our sides,
We came into our own.

And though we took our private paths,
We all have kept in mind
That in life our greatest struggle
Is our battle against time.

Will we get to know what true love is?
Will we have the things we need?
Will we conquer all our greatest fears?
Will we fail or will we succeed?

And then as we grow older,
And the future shrinks away,
Our lives become more memories
And less about today.

We share our wisdom and our hope
With the children in our lives,
And say good-bye to those we loved,
Who once stood by our side.

But there's a peace in growing old,
As time becomes more dear.
And who we are and why we're here
Becomes so crystal clear.

And we see time is not the enemy,
But how that time was lived.
And if we took all that we could,
Or gave all that we could give.

For in our final hours,
As our time begins to wane.
The goodness that our soul's bestowed,
Is all that shall remain.

Let me live within the moment.
Let me feel all that I can.
Let me cherish life for all it's worth,
With everything I am.

Let me see what's right in front of me,
With vision crystal clear.
And face what's waiting there for me,
With no hesitance or fear.

May I wake each day with gratitude,
For all my life may be.
And always feel that wonderment
At the world surrounding me.

May I welcome any strangers
With an open heart and mind.
And always stand for what is right
With all the strength that I can find.

Let me forgive myself for my mistakes,
While forgiving others theirs.
And never grow indifferent
But always strive to care.

Let me not forget what matters
In the scheme of every day,
To live each precious moment
In a kind and loving way.

For this moment now is everything,
Nothing matters but today.
So I'll willingly embrace it
And not let it slip away.

For it passes all so quickly,
And one chance is all we get.
And a life of wasted moments
Is a life filled with regrets.

There once was a woman
Who grew old with time.
She bore her life story
In the curve of her spine.

In the lines and the creases
Of her warm, weathered face
Lay those long nights of worry
And those arduous days.

In her pale, veiny hands,
Once so nimble and strong,
Rested remnants of hard work
And a deftness now gone.

She displayed her life's losses
In her dull, woesome eyes
And a heart often wounded
But well-lived and wise.

She was a doddering soul
With her sore, swollen feet
That could once trek for miles
And never grow weak.

Her voice was a whisper
Between shallow, strained breaths.
But she still told her tales
So she'd never forget.

Around her sweet smile
Were deep, puckered lines
From those smiles she shared
Through both good and bad times.

Now she sits on her porch
For hours each day.
In the brightest of sunshine
Or the heaviest rains.

Her head slips to her chest
As she drifts off to sleep,
Lost in her memories
And impossible dreams.

A tap on her shoulder
And she's now wide awake,
And there in her sights
Is that fresh little face!

"Grandma, it's me,
How are you today?"
And with those sweet words,
All the time fades away.

In those bright joyful eyes
Was her reason to be.
She was her will to go on
And her heart's steady beat.

She was her hope for tomorrow
And her wish for today.
She was that part of herself
That would not die away!

She was now all grown up
And all on her own.
In those deep moments of thought
And feeling alone.

She'd think of that old woman
Who had been her best friend
And she longed every day
To see her again.

She was that part of her soul
That still guided her way
And that love in her heart
That would not die away!

Some people view forgiveness
As a virtue for the weak.
An act of mercy undeserved,
That serves no useful need.

They stand firmly in their judgment
And won't consider a mistake.
They prefer to hold a senseless grudge
Than accept amends when made.

They feel they have some godly right
To reject and criticize.
They're possessed by righteous anger,
And consumed by pointless pride.

They're focused on how they've been wronged,
And won't be made the fool again.
So they feel they must avenge themselves
By refusing to give in.

They will sacrifice their family,
Or forsake a long-time friend.
Do anything they have to do
To be the winner in the end.

Or perhaps it's that they can't resolve
The depth of all their hurt,
Caused when someone they've trusted,
Left them questioning their worth.

But no matter why the struggle,
Out of pride or out of fear,
Not being able to forgive
Can cause the loss of ones most dear.

Yes, forgiveness is a virtue,
They even say it is divine.
But more than that it sets you free
From what weighs you down inside.

The best way to approach this life
Is to ask forgiveness and to forgive.
There's a balance to this crazy world,
So live and just let live.

You may not know how old she is
But I'm quite sure you'll recognize.
It doesn't take a rocket scientist
To see the ravages of time.

You may take note of all the wrinkles
That now define her aged face
Or the dark spots on her fragile hands
That no lotion can erase.

You may not hear her creaking bones
Or know how badly her feet ache.
But you are privy to her chronic pain
In the slowness of her pace.

You may discover that her hearings poor
When you try to pass her by
And find she'll gladly move aside
If you ask her eye to eye.

And therein lies the tragedy
Of living well beyond your prime
Even if your heart is filled with love
And you still possess the sharpest mind.

All they see is time's cruel conquest
And the spoils of that fight
Not the hero of that battle
Who gave all she had for life.

Or the soul that still shines brightly
And has so much more to give.
Or that person 'neath the time-worn mask
Who only wants the chance to live.

Her smile's still quite lovely
And she'll share it willingly
Just to prove she's still a person
Who she longs for you to see.

She has her own opinions
And an accomplished view of life
And her mind is filled with knowledge
And valuable insights.

She still has a sense of humor
And loves to laugh until she cries
Her heart is open to everyone
And she has the kindest eyes.

She loves those songs of yesterday
And can still sing every word
And her sweetest memories linger there
Inside of every verse.

She is a complicated being
Who worked hard for all she earned
And has a lifetime of experience
From which we all can learn.

So, ignore that well-worn cover
That only serves to hide
A heart that's young and open
And the true warrior inside.