Finding The Path
Once more restored
For far too long,
you stood by the window.
Staring out sorrowfully.
Looking beyond,
watching,
yearning for release.
But when the time came,
you lingered.
Indescribable concern,
for those left behind.
The dilemma of man.
So heavily vested.
To place the cornerstone,
but gracefully step away,
when one day the Architect,
folds away your blueprints.
Long time ago you drove by,
seeing the empty land,
filled with much potential.
Settled.
Design to structure.
The house built.
Conceived.
Lived.
Aged.
Original occupants now scattered.
Final silence fell,
the day of the departure.
Devoid of life.
The home which once came into being,
now a house again.
Emptiness returns.
Silence rips through the long corridors.
Only the piano remains.
Memories of children.
First very slowly,
playing one hand at a time.
Traversing flats and sharps,
minors and majors,
following the very way of life.
Eventually the chords came together.
Sweet melodies struck the heart strings.
You often said,
you were the only one who couldn’t play.
So you listened,
and sang to their tune.
You long for the song to go on,
aching as silence fills the air.
But you know,
as you knew then,
we are but passing through.
Eventually you move away from the window.
You slowly circle the house,
rooms now bare.
Memories of young life run through.
How they grew.
Their youth, your old age.
Faster steps, slower pace.
The once warm fireplace, now cold.
Curtains to the inviting lounge,
with gorgeous views, now closed.
The kitchen once filled with sounds of clanging cutlery,
and impatient busy bodies wanting to open pots.
Tempted by alluring smells travelling through.
Delightful memories of the smell of freshly baked bread,
so beautifully formed from such simple ingredients.
Little hands took turns to knead and shape.
The table once full, so strong a presence.
You eventually come full circle.
But this time,
you are ready,
to open and close the door behind you.
You slowly head to the garden,
once filled with lilies so colourful,
and plenty harvest over the years.
How you enjoyed the garden.
You take your time,
remembering the allotted seasons.
Barren land transformed into an oasis.
You again reach full circle,
to the place where you always fed the many cats.
They arrive to the call of an imminent feast,
even though this is not the usual hour.
Chorus of excitement,
tails up,
eyes brightly lit.
They follow you,
as you slowly head up the hill.
The walls are no more.
No boundaries, just a vision to behold.
Like those sweet first encounters.
You once more look back.
You did what you could,
with what you were given.
Laid the foundation,
provisioned,
maintained as best as possible.
Time to head into the beyond,
the work here is done.
Return to stillness,
like at first.
The known calling.
You find the path easily.
The hill,
now returned to its original state.
You walk it like in the days of old.
Once more restored.
