Windy Hill

     As day slowly settles into dusk, I find myself sitting here on this old glider; staring down towards the orchard. Memories, hopes and dreams alternately fight, as I find myself in deep thought. Through the rapidly approaching sunset, memories twit from limb to limb in my mind.

     Where has life gone? It seems that only yesterday I was a young man, and yet this evening I find myself just an old man sitting here on the porch. Looking back down the hill; wishing for another of the many things in life I never had a chance on having. Where is the garden? Where did the kids all get off to? Why did love go out of this old house? ‘Questions’ forever racing, darting, flying through my jumbled thoughts and bringing tears to my tired old eyes. But life doesn’t end here on the glider.

     For with the pain also comes hope, hope provided by a gracious God up above. And hope builds the patience required with old age. We can still do all the things of youth, find love, plant a garden, enjoy a sunset; but now we do it more slowly, savoring all the fullness that time has brought. Just as the evening breeze has brought its cool drafts to chase away the heat of the day, it gently blows in hope for a new day.

© 2002 ~ David L. Griffith

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~ © 2002/2010 David L. Griffith ~

"There is no cure for birth and death save to enjoy the interval."

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