This bench outside our olive green cottage home,
held none, then one,
to two, then three.
Within its wooden slats,
wrought iron arms and back,
echoes of laughter still ring,
tears also shed, but washed away and absorbed into the earth below,
moments of life’s contemplation’s worked through,
problems dissolved away,
a channel of love opened,
and hearts expanded.
Many a sunrise caught,
sitting upon this bench.
The light of a fresh day filtering through the trees observed in a new way,
the warmth of the sun kissed our skin,
and the many full moons left us in awe with the promise of a new day.
From three, then two,
to one, and now none,
our bench now rests in the season of stillness.
The landscape before it bare, while a hush of quiet falls all around it.
The full moon still making an appearance during crisp nights,
blanketing our bench with memories still warm in our hearts,
and the promise of hope of new beginnings,
in the next season of our lives.