While traveling a country road
I came upon a site.
The sun was just about to set,
And shed it's fading light.
Then as I glanced out in a field
Where shrubs and bushes grow,
I saw a bush with blooms of spring,
That really seemed to glow
I stopped because within the bush,
I saw something inside,
And there up close, within the glow,
A cabin tried to hide.
It seemed ashamed to show itself,
Its walls were leaning bad.
Its roof was broken, falling in,
And seemed to be so sad.
But as I felt the spirit there
And saw the bush aglow,
I realized this tattered house
Had stories I should know.
It seemed the cabin showed to me,
Some visions from its past.
A man who built this little house,
In hope that it would last.
I saw his wife who worked with him
To make this house a home;
At last they had a settled place,
No longer would they roam.
I saw the children as they played
And saw them as they grew.
I knew that they were happy here,
In all they chose to do.
But then I saw the family leave,
But cabin had to stay,
Yet it had served this family well,
Until they went away.
Then loneliness began to fill,
The cabin's wooden walls;
No children left to play their games,
No mother's dinner calls.
And now so many years have passed,
There's broken wood to see,
And yet within these lonesome walls
There is a dignity.
A home that served its family well;
These walls that did their part;
This cabin that became a home
This home that has a heart.
© James O'Brien
Used With Permission
All Rights Reserved By Author