If these Walls could Speak…
If these Walls could Speak…
they’d turn back the
clock of time.
The red paint
on this old barn glows
as the morning sun
casts its light.
The farmhouse appears
as a tranquil
campfire
set on a hill…
a lofty place
in the center
of
everywhere.
Within this time piece,
one could hear
the hoof beat of horses who
are strewn in the hay,
cows mulching on sweet
grasses and chickens
scurrying about pecking
the seeds found on the
ground.
Then,we hear the sound of
children as they
scamper all
about
swinging on the rope
dangling from the
loft.
Their laughter
causes the trees to sway
and their leaves
rustle causing
the birds to sing
in a melody of their
own.
The years have come and
gone—
The naked eye NOW sees
a barren old barn—
its shell appears
beaten down
weathered and worn.
As the sun sets,
if one only dare
to come out and look
AND listen…
one sees and one hears—
An old man and an
old woman sit on
the grass overlooking the
meadow—
they remember like it
was yesterday…
Everything is the same—
everything has changed…
The barn poem is beautiful. mfb
Hi Sandy,
Sorry, but I’m not such a spiritual person as you. I should have know right away.
Thanks for thinking of me.
Martha