“This house was once a home”, I thought.
Filled with people coming and going,
Living, loving, aging, dying, working, growing;
Not necassarily in that order.
As I road past the building-
the old little house on a tiny plot-
I slowed my pace;
I became enchanted.
My intrigue grew and grew;
I cannot tell you why.
Beyond the fact that the windows,
that once let in the light,
Were now boarded up in blue.
The panes had been replaced by sky blue painted wood.
And now, as viewed the lovely artistry,
All time seemed one, all motion stopped, a perfect peace,
as on a starry night,
took the place of my thoughts.
It lasted but an instant.
I wondered, then, as I returned,
aware of the ‘illusion’,
which one was real, the peace of that instant,
or my seat in the road.
As night turned to day again,
thoughts made their way.
I wished, for a moment,
(I knew more than wished),
that our Souls are like that old house.
At the end of our time
spent here on this earth,
our pain is no longer,
we exist anew,
in spirit and in peace,
as that house!
Boarded Up In Blue
This poem was written/submitted by Donna Grant.