The years can pile up on us, and bring us to to the point, where newness can have little meaning. The timber that stands as skin upon our bones can be ragged, with pieces missing, with they grey peeling from inward out, arresting the attention given, and make us humorous to those who look.
Closely watch each turn, see beyond the eventual grave that may linger there, and realize the fortune of life well lived, though each petal of the blooming flower one day should dissapear, the next years crop will hold us, to see the richness flow again. Simple things that add up, a roof, a door, a window. Grain that can be kept dry, a clean place where the tractor can live out of the weather, and the wonderful smell of life can mask it all.
Watch behind. Look ahead. The future is made of the past, with new ideas.
Ralph Peck
Photo by Ralph Peck
North and east of Claremore, Oklahoma
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