Sunday Drive

She sits quietly
                        her thoughts finding comfort
                        Being lost today
                        feels overwhelming
                        until her mind finally rests
                        upon the old wooden house
                        Settled deep into the ground
                        for years now
                        No longer white with pride
                        but yellowed and worn with love
                        Secrets and dreams revealed through
                        tall unkempt grass and children's toys
                        and the man serene in the afternoon glow
                        his only joy -
                        the smile upon his aging face
                        A baseball, mit and bat in happiness alike
                        as cherished as the children who play
                        so faithfully
                        the game of life
                        or another favorite pastime
                        through the woods
                        down the steep hills
                        riding furiously and forever
                        a beloved trike
                        And her eyes avert
                        from her own wistfulness
                        a life so full of desires
                        lived completely
                        to the beginning of eternity
                        something she will never remember
                        You cannot look back with fondness
                        on what you have never known...
                        Shifting her longing gaze
                        to fall upon the woman
                        in her rocker
                        knitting the cloth
                        singing silently
                        with her motion and thoughts
                        She catches her wish
                        and nods slowly
                        as if to say
                        I've been there
                        Startled she turns away
                        once more to notice
                        the old shutters
                        have never been repaired
                        but are still the faintest hue
                        of the blue that they once were
                        when warmed by the togetherness
                        of the blessed family living there
                        so long ago
                        Saturday mornings were sweet
                        and full of laughter
                        The old man and the woman
                        watched in satisfaction
                        as the young ones
                        dug in the dirt
                        twirled in the sunshine
                        Hazy rainbows appeared
                        mysteriously as if by magic
                        more often than rain
                        Sunday mornings were quiet
                        reserved and revered
                        praising God in church
                        never dressed in the latest fashion
                        caring too much
                        about the smallest loaf of bread
                        brought to the table
                        for four patient mouths
                        plus two empty ones
                        Asking for nothing but
                        shelter, love and safety
                        Thanking Him for
                        every unanswered hope...
                        Her ears distracted
                        by the off-key whirring hum
                        of the broken windmill
                        warns her of the coming storm
                        Simultaneously
                        her intense listening
                        captures the lone cry
                        of the dove nestled on the roof -
                        slightly torn but still a haven
                        from the thunder and lightning
                        that will surround this precious home
                        No longer lost
                        still overwhelmed
                        but charmed and comforted
                        by this heaven so adored
                        She smiles at the loyal shoes
                        waiting patiently for their owner
                        next to the browned and dying palm
                        at the foot of the aluminum screen door