THE FARM

Through miles of lonely prairie, We found an old gray barn,
A shack that called itself a home, On Grandpa's ancient farm.
Family blessings came their way, Sons and daughters too,
Now in city's ivory towers with, Possessions all like new.

And I ponder how might ledgers look, If we could but compare,
And read the heavenly printouts, And check it all up there,
The ones who drew life's sustenance, From deep within life's soil,
Challenged by the elements, That made up years of toil.

And I think about the freeways, Great Grandpa never knew,
Sliced through hills and prairies as, Foul air prevents our view.
Folks now have other challenges, With stats of carnage high,
The loss of child or loved ones, Drunk drivers caused to die.

Empty minds confused with drugs, Find family life a chore,
Until a choice is made to change, Rebuilding of heart's core.
A cottage or a castle, which? Depending on our aims,
Daily building from the heart, New memories will reclaim.

The efforts that our parents took, To help our hearts go right,
The kindly words that Grandma spoke, Mom's stories read at night.
Each heart and mind can choose new life, Grow in grace each day,
So hearts won't fall in disrepair, Like old farms in decay.