Friday, September 1, 2023




She is not grand -

humble proportions and peeling paint

It would not be home without her aging arms

welcoming us as we make our way up the sidewalk

soft light gleaming in the darkness

She graciously invites me to sit in her welcoming presence

an audience to the grand entertainment of life

that graces her surroundings;

Quieting my spirit - tuning my ears to birdsong;

focusing my eyes on the beauty I miss in my busyness.

She sits silently as the pages of books turn;

and the pen works its way over worn journals.

She listens to the echo of a little girl's voice

playing make believe.

Remembers the gray and white kitty

who slept trustingly perched on her railing.

She watches tenderly

when eyes close in weariness

And I sleep in the peaceful silence

that surrounds her.

This is the porch of the house we lived in for thirty years before we moved into our present house. We have a porch here too. I do love porches.