Market Day
©2003 by Susan Noyes Anderson, His Children, Vantage Point Press
Photograph ©2003 Anita Schiller
Oh for a son
when my head is bowed
and years have lined my face––
A stalwart son
with a gentle heart,
Oh for a son
when my head is bowed
and years have lined my face––
A stalwart son
with a gentle heart,
Her eyes look past the window pane,
beyond the shutters and the years.
She hears the laughing children, sees
but does not see them through her tears.
The open heart is never quite alone,
neither in empty room nor silent street,
and though there may be none to hold or greet,
for those who’ve loved, these joys are not unknown.
Come, speak to me of times gone by.
Remind me of our carefree youth.
Recall with me those nights we sang
and laughed and thought we knew the truth.
Who am I? A mystery––
my thoughts unknown, my world unseen.
How much of life and light is lost
behind a self-made screen?
In life, there is a symmetry––
a balance that bespeaks a plan,
and he who treads a humble path
will find in him a peaceful man.
Sit down with me, and let us seek
a respite from the cold and bleak.
Lay down the bundles that you hold,
and listen to the words I speak.
When do men lose the urge to climb
and run to ground?
Where children see a peak sublime
the grown-ups look at rock and grime,