Man With a Mission

I see him every day
The quiet worker
Like a worker bee
He is determined as always
To do his job
To complete his mission
As perfectly as possible.

Armed with the weapons of his choice
A Windex spay bottle
And some paper towels
He is at work
Five days a week
For the last decade or so
Whether it shines or snows
Whether the court yard outside
Decorated with flowers or weeds
He is there
At the entrance door
Cleaning the glasses
Making it spotless
As much as one can do.

Slowly and surely
The age engraves its signature
On his solemn face
With some gold capped teeth
He smiles and says ‘OK’
To whatever one says
And goes back to his work.

Weathers come and go
People come and go
But Jose, the mission man
Works there
As if forever.

((**))
Babru
September 15, 2009