 |
|
|
Many the year, often the tear
As wearily and fearfully we fight the good fight
As darkness descends, and doom impends,
We remember and take cheer
From reflections of warmth cast by crackling hearth
Remembrance of Eden, our first home on earth,
Paradise regained, love’s holy light
Rough wood, unpainted, doors akimbo, hanging by their hinges,
Aging posts and sloping porches, roof with uneven pitch
Or brick and stone, its concrete stoop an outthrust tongue taunting the city
From the bosom of bustling family, safe harbor from street’s cold pity
Or white picket fence snugly embracing emerald green sward
The purring motor and sweet smell of new mown lawn ownership’s reward
Dead wood, cold stone, factory fired bricks, stucco and vinyl
No longer lifeless and inert, mechanical, expertly engineered, final
Delivered product of ingenuity serving exigency
No, these are not mere houses
They are homes, painted in bright laughter and somber tones of sorrow
Life happened here, and left its trace that lifts us up to complete our race
And when we’ve come to our everlasting home
It’s family there with whom we share
That makes these homes not houses.
The opinions expressed by authors may not necessarily reflect the opinion of FaithWriters.com.
Accept Jesus as Your Lord and Savior Right Now - CLICK HERE
JOIN US at FaithWriters for Free. Grow as a Writer and Spread the Gospel.
|
|
|
