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Old Wood & Iron

The old wood
Dry
Greyed
Cracked

The old iron
Rust
Pitted
Flaked

Like me

Still strong

Windows provide
A view of the world
And the possibilities beyond

But often the most revealing view
Is when the light of the inner world
Reflects right back to me

Back home
Where I live
The crows fly twice
Once at dawn
Again at dusk
From and to
Their nightly roost

By the thousands they fly
A twice daily parade
With potent energy
In the morning
A somber homecoming
In the evening
They fly

I love old wood
Its warmth
Its texture

I love the way time
And the elements enhance
Its beauty
Its value

I reach too far
And get blown back

But that’s OK

Too far
Is simply a place
I haven’t learned to reach

Just yet

Sometimes
Life goes
Off the rails

I can let
The consequences
Lay where they come to rest