On Looking Back

 Now that I am old

it takes not much to make me cry.

A picture of my son who died before his time.

An aria from my favorite opera.

A hug from my grandchild.

A sermon spoken only to me.

A Christmas hymn and the memories it brings.

A walk along a quiet stream.

A field of flowers.

Memories of a loving mother and father.

Remembrances of accomplishments.

Regrets at what I should have done.

And many more encounters 

that come and go 

all in a seemingly random fashion.

Perhaps it is a part of understanding life.

Clearly it is something 

that comes only with time.  q