I mentioned in a post before, that I wrote a poem to my grandfather when I was in jr. high. Several people asked then to read it, but I had to find it first. And then I had to find the courage to post it. I’ve been thinking about him a lot this past week, but hadn’t put together why until today when my cousin posted on Facebook that today is the 5 year anniversary of his passing. So it seems fitting to post this now.
Come and sit, the old man said,
And listen to my story.
I’ll weave you a tale of life and death,
A tale of strife and glory.
So she came to hear his yarn,
Leaned against his knee.
He wove the colors of words so well,
They sang in harmony.
Then he spoke and the tale began
The fire crackled and burned.
While Grandpa imparted his wisdom,
Speaking of lessons well-learned.
From many lands the characters came,
Dancing before her view.
Actors they were, on the stage of life
Appearing at Grandpa’s cue.
One and all, they sang to her
The hues of their voices blending
Of laughter and sorrow, they sang to her,
Weaving the tapestry unending.
Dear Abuelito, tell your stories
I’ll lean upon your knee.
The colors you weave are everything.
Unfold your tapestry.
(for my grandfather, and all grandfathers who love to tell stories)