Standing still

The house is empty now,
its owner long since gone.
With the windows ever dustier,
and the garden running wild,
it comes with some surprise to hear the sound
of heating coming on.


It raises questions that you know
cannot be answered, provoking
further thoughts and fantasies
that swirl around the past and present,
and, even now, the future.

The structure stands;
strong enough you’d say,
but will the structure stay?
It is a question thrown
to the sky, the ground,
the once so carefully tended garden,
and all the land around.

Whose home was this when built
more than a hundred years ago?
And then, what life was there -
through all the years - to know?

Once new, and proudly entered,
the house became a home,
a place of love and growth
as two increased to three, then four.
And more.

And being home, a place
to gather and to bring together
moments never captured
at the time, but there for ever after.
Moments both of pleasure and of pain,
of stress and calm, of light and dark,
of love, and welcome laughter.

A true and tried template
for this, a small stone cottage:
a perfect pattern
for succeeding generations,
at least until the last few years,
when one, then two,
then all would go; yes leave –
while willing that the house
might once more come to life.

And so, it seems, it has.
Although the house looks empty now,
with its owner long since gone,
the windows ever dustier,
and the garden running wild,
it comes with some surprise –
and joy – to hear the sound
of heating, as before.

The sound of life, once more.

November 2018, from January 2017