He Smiled

I met a man - one could hardly deem old. His smile was warm, yet his hands were quite cold. I asked the gentleman: “Do you remember my name?” I queried the chap: "Do you know why I came?" I solemnly wondered if this tranquil soul heard. Again, the man beamed; speaking nary a word. I harkened his heart 'bout my wares as a child - the man calmly listened; he comfortably smiled. I prattled on 'bout my debonair Dad - how I truly valued the cherished moments we shared. Private passioned spirits rivaling a deity's gold. Handel's honored messiahs chanting secret fables untold. I asked the quiet nobleman: "Can a son's tears be reposed?” My Father simply smiled as his maple-casket lid - closed.