A Man Most Content

I sat with a man today; a man most content

I spoke but never an answer gave he,
He was troubled neither by thought or rebuttal

I shifted in my chair after some time,
My weary bones aching from toil and age
But he who kept me company was most relaxed,
without even the slightest twinge of pain

I challenged him with politics, religion and moral debate
Like a skilled listener, he held his tongue; as though both heart and mind were locked away

He had neither a worry nor care
He felt neither an ache nor pain
No matter how I rambled
His silence convinced me of his vast wisdom
And his greater self-control

His appearance was perfect;
He looked younger than he had in years
His hair was neatly combed, every hair in place
His clothing without spot or wrinkle
And His very presence caused me to pause; to consider

For who is the man who is most content?
Who is the man without worry, thought or care;
Who is the man without ache or pain,
who is the man looking better today than he has for years?
Who is this man who is the picture of control and repose?

He is the man who is dead
He who lies so quietly in his casket
Perfectly at ease without the slightest tinge of dread
He is the man who is most content; the man who is already dead.

8/21/2009 Gary L. Holman