Leaving a Place . . .

Are there lightning bugs in Utah
Or sweet smelling honeysuckle vine?
Do daisies show their white happy faces?
Are there any traces of what, to me, is sublime?

Even though I love my white hydrangea tree
I hope I won’t see it bloom this year.
As I look around I am thankful for this house and gardens
But have to admit, I was never really happy here.

“This house is a gift,” I heard a voice say as plain as day.
I was admiring the newly planted strawberries ages ago.
This house is turning out to be a gift, though not what I imagined.
Dear Lord, please let it be a gift in the end, so I can go.

Children’s laughter and gaiety are the things I cherish most.
Sledding down the bank over the child-made bumps in the snow.
Running from hot tub to cold white and back to the warmth
Like affection,
Those memories will always be close.

Perhaps it’s best I am going to a place that is far removed
From everything I’ve loved (and loathed).
Utah is brown. Here it is green. Utah is dry. Here it is wet (with perspiration)
But who’s to say I can’t make it into something that’s loved (or filled with inspiration?)

I always say, “Leave a place better than you found it.”
I hope to do that. My heart and soul long for a ‘better place.’
Please, dear Lord, carry me to a home of repose
And let laughter and gaiety once more find a space
In my life...

Where friends and family are welcomed
And walls and rugs worn with use
Help me to be up to it, Lord.
With Thee, I know I can do it...happily...
no excuse.