'A Road to Redemption'

A little trip off the beaten path.

Traffic backed up.  My morning drive.

My mind foggy and cluttered as I ride.

When a crazy thought entered my head

And off the main road, I turned instead

To travel down a strange and different route

And wondered at the road as it curved about.

Both lanes were lined with live and leafy trees

The world was a collage of dark browns and wild greens.

Sunlight creeping through the mossy mass

Danced and played behind each tree as I passed.

 

On and on, down the road, I drove

Until I stopped suddenly at a quiet abode.

An old farmhouse neatly hidden in the trees

Just waiting to be found by someone like me.

A tiny little place in great disrepair

Begging for someone to show a little care.

I couldn’t help but step away from my car

And stare in amazement from the road afar.

I walked closer through the tall damp grass

Past the rusty well pump and to the house at last.

 

With a heavy sigh, I took it all in. 

The rock foundation and the old wood bin

The white paint all of it chipped and faded

Left the old house wind-beaten and nearly naked,

Its once stout walls, now gray and old

Let in the rain, the wind and even the cold.

The old tin roof baked orange-red with rust

Bellowed and moaned with each wind gust.

The front porch creaked and bowed under my weight

But, for some reason, it didn’t sound like a complaint.

 

As I stood on the porch I summoned my strength

And dared to go inside to have a quick peek.

The old brass knob gave easily with a twist

Releasing the latch with a loud metallic click.

The wooden front door slid open with grace

While a puff of stale dust hit me square in the face.

It opened to a room large and nearly bare

Except for a framed picture above an old rocking chair.

A few quick steps took me across the bare room

To that picture covered in dirt and a little bit of gloom.

 

A quick wipe with the sleeve of my shirt

Cleared the glass cover and removed the dirt.

The picture couldn’t have shown a happier sight,

A tidy little family posing in the clear sunlight.

A simple sight from a simpler time

Brought feelings of nostalgia and a tear to my eye.

With one final glance, I hung the picture back on the wall

And turned and walked down a short narrow hall

That led to a door that led outside.

And I found myself staring at this farm's greatest pride.

A grand orchard of apples and pear;

Not overgrown but tended with care.

The grass neatly trimmed around each tree

And a large Live Oak holding a swaying tire swing.

It was all encased inside a white wooden fence

Lined with wildflowers lush and dense.

But there was no sign of people, no sound but the breeze,

No squirrels in the trees, no birds, and no bees.

Nothing in this scene felt quite right

But, for some strange reason, I felt calm not fright.

 

Though I wanted to stay I knew I didn’t belong,

In this little orchard planted by a family now gone.

I walked back to the house and down the narrow hall.

And took one last look at the picture hanging on the wall.

I stared at the faces of the family in the scene

And smiled when I replaced it wiped fresh and clean.

I walked back to the door and breathed the fresh air

And turned one more time and saw the rocking chair

I stared for a moment barely believing my eyes

The chair was rocking back and forth in rhythmic time.

 

I watched for a moment and felt a calming peace,

All of my stress and worry, a sudden release.

Overcome with emotion there at the door

I cried for no reason and fell to the floor.

I felt hands on my shoulders and one on my head

I could hear their soft prayers for my soul they pled.

After a time, I stood and looked around

Inside and out they were nowhere to be found.

So back to my car I walked very slow

I started the engine and drove back home.

Author's Note

Thanks for reading.

Reviews

[Carolynn]

Oh I just loved this story from start to finish, it kept me so interested the entire way through - what a fantastic story teller you are :) I love the end, to me it was angels with you - not ghosts - it felt too warm - and for me it was the angels tending the field in the absence (death) of the family - so I may have went in a different direction but I loved it :)

[James]

Not a different direction at all. I purposely never said ghosts, spirits or angels, I wanted to leave it to the readers. I really like the idea that it was angels too. Praying over the man when he needed help and guidance.

I am really glad you enjoyed it.

[Kathy Van Kurin]

'A Road to Redemption'
James,
As if 'back in time' God was in the prayers of those now gone on or even those still with you. We do not know the help that comes through those who trust in God's help. The Lord already knows but when we pray and agree in God's spirit unity with Jesus is had. The Lord is so good. Your writing with the picture on the wall cleaned and the lovely garden. Living things, vibrant things.
Kathy

[MomzillaNC]

Wow. A powerful write. It’s a word painting that takes a sad, forgotten scene and imbues it with power and hope.

[James]

Thank you so much. So glad you liked it.

[MomzillaNC]

yvw :D

[reluctantsyren]

This is really, really very good James! It put me there. Brava. Made my morning. Sometimes I give people high marks just cuz I hate grading, but with you REALLY it's 100 out of 100.

[James]

Wow, thanks so much. I like 100s. Really, I'm glad you liked it.

[M. L. F.]

Cool Poem... Love these lines..

he world was a collage of dark browns and wild greens.
Sunlight creeping through the mossy mass
Danced and played behind each tree as I passed.

Just beautiful..

On and on, down the road, I drove
Until I stopped suddenly at a quiet abode.
An old farmhouse neatly hidden in the trees
Just waiting to be found by someone like me.
A tiny little place in great disrepair
Begging for someone to come and show a little care.
I couldn’t help but to step away from my car
And stare in amazement from the road afar.
I walked closer through the tall damp grass
Past the rusty well pump and to the house at last.

With a heavy sigh, I took it all in.
The rock foundation and the old wood bin
The white paint all of it chipped and faded
Left the old house wind-beaten and nearly naked
Its once stout walls, now grey and old
Let in the rain, the wind and even the cold.
The old tin roof baked orange-red with rust
Bellowed and moaned with each wind gust.
The front porch creaked and bowed under my weight
But, for some reason, it didn’t sound like a complaint.


I can keep copy pasting, but you get the idea... I LOVE when poetry tells a story... narrative poetry is the best... The sentiment here is really pretty. Thanks for sharing your work with us..
Misty

[James]

I'm so glad you enjoyed this long piece. Thank you so much for your wonderful review.

[gabrielle]

You painted a vivid yet so sad scene, james. The poem made me think of our "family house," which was once filled with mirth. But now the house, unfortunately, is almost empty and barely visited by us. a nostalgic read for me.

[James]

Thank you so much for reading it.

[Norman 223]

A wonderful narrative poem that evokes not only atmosphere,but also emotion. The hint of eeriness creates a fitting conclusion to this well crafted and rhythmic work.

Norman

[James]

Thank you, Norman, for reading this long piece. I am very glad you liked it.

[Ruth]

This is an exceptional piece of poetry...I thoroughly enjoyed absorbing this journey...so tangible and consuming...wow...brilliant :)

[James]

Wow, what a great compliment. I am so glad you enjoyed it.

[wordman]

james,i really enjoyed this write! i often do the same things
i have been to wilmington,n.c lived in burlington for a while,go to alabama and georgia often
my old neighborhood badly run down

[James]

Thanks, Wordman, I appreciate it. Nothing stays the same does it? Every once in a while it's nice to get off the beaten path.

[Winslow Des Totes]

I like how the flow of the piece and the diction combine into a very calming and enjoyable work. Great job I liked this very much!
:)

[James]

I am so glad you enjoyed it. Thak you so much for reading.

[Winslow Des Totes]

Anytime :)

[r. f. jordan]

this is an excellent poem, with an even flow, a sound rhyme scheme, and a smooth sense of rhythm. i like the way the speaker moves the reader through the piece. the stanzas are well organized, and aptly divided i also enjoy the content, and the moral of the poem itself. have high regard for the past, and hold nostalgia for a simpler time, but don't let such activity keep you from moving ahead. very well done, James. it is a pleasure reading you on this site. it is no mistake that you've received such a high amount of traffic on this piece. well done,

[James]

Wow, thank you for that review and for the kind comments. I am glad you enjoyed this.