Seasons Of Life

I recognized the house from a lifetime ago;
it was clearly etched in my mind;
it was a wintry day, midst a falling snow;
in the manner, memory’s designed.

In a sense it had been my life for a season;
where I grew up; laughed and cried;
the Master had sent me there for a reason;
in a sense; I lived there; then died.

That house had an atmosphere of warmth, inside;
a place, where love, was received and given;
the temporal home, where my soul could reside;
and, one day, I’d feel forgiven.

Each life segment is but another new look;
often, more than one, in each incarnation;
lives are the words and chapters of a book;
each life, lived; leads to higher elevation.

In this newest chapter, I’m left all alone;
at least; so it seems, that I feel;
thoughts still fixated on a childhood home;
that only in my thought, is real.

Our many lives; lived in distant pasts;
have brought us to this place;
growth, within them, meant to last;
the Love of God, to embrace.

Within every life, is the coccoon of death;
death is but a hallway in the night;
one life of memories, takes its last breath;
and a butterfly flies to the light.

Monty 6/18/22. # 1,174