I sit and look upon
a memory of my old barn.
That has aged with beauty cast
From all the years that's passed.
It's hard to look at things like these
So dry they crinkle
As weathering as the wood of Life
With the scorching sun they wrinkle.
It's easy when spring is near
The grass is growing tall and green
you look around at paradise
To smile at all that's seen.
We build these Barns with loving care
with coats of paint that's dried
As age comes on the paint wears out
our Barn.. it has not died.
One day we notice
our Barn begins to lean
But seldom do we understand
The beauty this might bring.
Fruit trees fifty-foot high
Pines needles turn from brown
Never to replace the old
If age should bring them down.
If only we could understand
And ignore the little troubles
our days in life may bring
Perhaps we'd line our walls of Life
With this Barn wood under beams.
So my Barn that's leaning
is turning silver gray
It's not so hard to see the beauty
It's there to show the way
In living every day
Hard weather of life takes tolls
Perhaps my message sent
will help form new goals
the storms of life has bent
Just think my old barn..
bleached, old, scared and barren
As my beauty in the sun
to be held as precious memories
When my day of work is done.
© Kc Sievert 1982
revised 2008
