Thursday, May 28, 2009

The Front Porch Swing

The Front Porch Swing
(by R.P.Edwards)

Simple slats
Painted white
Waiting there
Day and night
The children’s plaything
The elder's friend
But oft’ alone
With none to spend
A pleasant pause
Awaits me there
With cares suspended
In sheltered air
An invitation
A place of Spring
Where moments…matter
The front porch swing

A May morning. Because of much rain in recent days (and more expected) the air was thick with moisture. The flowering tree that abuts our street (you’d think after all these years I’d know what kind it is) was quickly losing it’s milky white blooms and these, pleasant to the eye on the tree and when freshly on the earth, have taken on the hue of soggy cardboard after only a short time. I, for some reason (can’t really recall) was out on the front porch of our humble dwelling and there, to my immediate right, waiting…was our simple, white, porch swing. I must admit, I haven’t paid much attention to this silent fixture, but today I thought I’d accept the invitation.

I remember years ago, when we had just moved into this house, seeing the two anchors rudely protruding from the ceiling. “I guess they had a swing?” I deduced (what a mind.) And so, in the coming months I ran across a “deal” which required a little assembly on my part (nuts and bolts…I can handle that). I hung it up, slapped on some paint…and there it was. From that time till this (other than a repair or two, and an occasional warning to the kids to not bang into the house) I haven’t given this resident much attention. But, today, I thought a visit was in order.

I’ve often had my best times of fellowship over a cup of coffee, and this was no exception. I poured a hot portion into my oversized mug, grabbed some reading material (in this case, the Bible) and gingerly sat down on the “bench.” I must admit, it was a little strange at first. No filtered air. No artificial light. No manufactured noise from commentators which we so often invite into our home. And, although I was initially a bit concerned about the stability, I soon learned that my cup was safe…and I was anchored as well. And so, I read, sipped, contemplated and communed. In front of me, birds flew, neighbors walked by, and I, rocking gently, was slowly brought to a calmer, happier place...a place that is sometimes very hard to find in troubled times such as these. So, the conclusion: I think I’ll make some room for the gift on the front porch. I hope to visit again, soon. Perhaps even tomorrow. But, I will tell you this, when it gets to be ninety-five degrees outside…you can forget it!

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