Heritage (For My Father)
I see you sitting two pews in front of me, your broad shoulders rising above the royal blue padding and the polished wood. Your white head is wreathed in rays of purple and blue and gold, as the sunlight passes through the stained-glass window saying “I Am The Way” and frames you where you sit with white head bowed.
And memories of my childhood appear, like old friends, familiar, yet long since forgotten. Memories of a time when I sat beside you, my feet not reaching the floor. And two pews in front of us, your father sat, his white head bowed in prayer.
But the pews were not padded and polished wood, but hard oaken benches, rough hewn. The windows were not stained glass, but unadorned clear panes. And the floors were not carpeted, just planking, oiled to keep down the dust. And the old pot-bellied stove gave heat, too much to those who sat nearby.
And though the scene is different, it is the same somehow. For Pa lives on in you and you in me. And I see the years fall away and in your place I sit with white head bowed…
Nancy L, Meade
(In gratitude for my godly heritage)
I see you sitting two pews in front of me, your broad shoulders rising above the royal blue padding and the polished wood. Your white head is wreathed in rays of purple and blue and gold, as the sunlight passes through the stained-glass window saying “I Am The Way” and frames you where you sit with white head bowed.
And memories of my childhood appear, like old friends, familiar, yet long since forgotten. Memories of a time when I sat beside you, my feet not reaching the floor. And two pews in front of us, your father sat, his white head bowed in prayer.
But the pews were not padded and polished wood, but hard oaken benches, rough hewn. The windows were not stained glass, but unadorned clear panes. And the floors were not carpeted, just planking, oiled to keep down the dust. And the old pot-bellied stove gave heat, too much to those who sat nearby.
And though the scene is different, it is the same somehow. For Pa lives on in you and you in me. And I see the years fall away and in your place I sit with white head bowed…
Nancy L, Meade
(In gratitude for my godly heritage)
