The Journey to Beauty

You remember this house
when it was a shell,
empty windows and doorways
filled with vines, gray and lifeless,

like yourself, drained by time
and wear, abandoned and left
to lie, no one caring enough
to repair or refresh,

not even, ultimately,
yourself.

You remember this house,
and where you began,
not with fresh paint
and glass, but down below,

in the dark grey of the foundation,
replacing the grey stones,
one after another, with stones
square and true, and

not of this world, perfect
because they were not yours, but God’s,
waiting, waiting, waiting
for you to secretly lay them where, unseen
they would hold up the world.

You remember this house,
not the way it is seen today,
but as it once was, a ruin,
Aware as few are, to

the long painful path
from the edge of death,
to rebirth and renovation:
the journey to beauty.

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The picture was taken in Botetourt Country, Va., near Eagle Rock. You can click on it for a larger version.

Tom