Like a tapestry, our memories are woven by moments. These moments are threads of pain and joy. Each one so interwoven that we can never pull one without the other. Wisdom is learning to use that tapestry to love those around you in the here and now.
This old guitar plays just fine on a Sunday afternoon
It welcomes back by sweet memories and secrets from every room.
I can draw it out to perfection, the carpet, pictures and the clock.
Country roads and front porch woes, pass time by sway and rock.
It's all about Aunt Helen, the family I’ve never known.
She's a shadow in my memory and her hugs still smell like home.
Its butterflies and box fans, stealing ice from the freezer tray,
Humming blues just for you as we cool off from the day.
Its summertime in the vineyard, hiding ‘neath the magnolia tree,
There something in the barn that’s gone, a picture of you and me.
It's all about Aunt Helen, the family I’ve never known.
She's a shadow in my memory and her hugs still smell like home.
In the oven there is cornbread, soft butter and blue table salt,
Fresh fruit is in the cellar fridge and adventures with Charles Kuralt.
It’s a quiet that feels normal, I never felt alone,
The window’s breeze, a late-night tease and calls from a rotary phone.
He is Carnac the magnificent, laughing at a world beyond our view,
Riddles from the ages past and the truths I thought I knew.
I hear tires on the gravel, slipping by in the dead of night,
The sound of keeping promises, passing by like highway lights.
It's all about Aunt Helen, the family I’ve never known.
She's a shadow in my memory and her hugs smell like home.
- B.Oaks
“For now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I have been fully known.
So now faith, hope, and love abide, these three; but the greatest of these is love.”
