Traveling down an old country road,

Carrying the burden of a lonely life’s load.

I noticed a very old abandoned farm,

Overrun with weeds that masked its charm.

I slowed down while thinking then turned in the drive,

As I came near the buildings there was nothing alive.

Stopping the car and stepping on out,

There was no one here nothing about.

As I quietly walked around the run down place,

Seeing the house I instinctively quickened my pace.

Reaching the yard I saw her weathered state,

I pulled up short at an old rusty gate.

Looking at the house and the emptiness within,

I found myself pondering what her past might have been.

Was the house filled with joy or was it depressed,

Was it mad or did it welcome every guest?

Did families gather around with each holiday feast,

And were they all welcomed from the great to the least?

As these images rose from within the depths of my mind,

It occurred to me, the house is like the heart of mankind.

Many hearts are empty bitterly darkened and forlorn,

Many like the house are weathered, tattered, and worn.

I compared my own heart to the house’s empty fate,

Realizing that all come and go by the swinging of the gate.

Understanding the darkness my heart gate was shut tight,

Needing for it to open and let in some human light.

Rejected and abandoned was always my great fear,

Keeping the heart gate closed letting no one come near.

How often we should open the heart gates wide,

Letting people come in and hope there they abide.

Sometimes they may turn on us and with hurting leave,

Unfilled with their presence we are left only to grieve.

Other times they may stay sharing their hopes and desire,

Lighting the flame of an eternal friend’s loving fire.

Warmth comes in with a friends longing to stay,

The magical bond that renews and grows everyday.

There are times when someone comes and wants to stay,

There are times we say no, there is no time today.

When I thought of my life how busy I have been,

No time for an acquaintance no time for a dear friend.

Fear and too busy is why my heart gate shut people out,

And the loneliness of our heart brings forth powerful doubt.

Gateway to our heart, we are the only one that surely knows,

The old rusty gate is either open, or it is closed.

Copyright 2009    Theodore A. Cline