Farm Door Beckons

Farm Life, For Fun, Photo Story
Do you ever look at something, not just with your eyeballs, but with your heart? Really, do you take the time for this? I do. I also have this fascination with old farm houses (and don’t even get me started on old barns and hay lofts). Anyway, a few days ago I was pursuing the High Calling Blogs photographs on their contributing-photographers site. My heart leapt as I gasped at a little thumbnail image. The photographer is the very talented, Truth-wielding, fantastic picture-taker extraordinaire, Susan. Little did she know that when she depressed the shutter button, she actually opened my heart. I simply could not get that old door out of my mind. Or was it my heart? Both, I reckon.
So, what is a girl to do? I went back and looked at it again! People became real. Smells wafted. I sat at the keyboard and the words tumbled out. Like jacks tossed into the dirt, they bumped and tousled over one another.
It was only the next day that I realized the door I wrote of had glass windows embedded in its wooden frame. How did I make that mistake? I soon realized that my grandparents Montana farm house door was the one with glass panes. Oh, how our minds make our eyes see what our hearts want.


From the dirt lane

I faintly see a smoky wisp of an apron-clad woman wave

before she tucks away a stray amber curl


I stop my dirty pick-up

and walk through the overgrown yard

a lot of curiosity with only a little hesitation

guide my feet along the weeded path

as I wipe wet palms on frayed-edge, jean shorts


Wood crosses and frames broken window panes

still, the old farm door beckons

even as it barely hangs

off hinges and rests heavy against the wall


I inhale deep and wonder,

pausing to listen, to smell

and gently reach, grab rusted metal knob

hoping to discover the stories

she once held within…


I finger rough, peeling paint

as she tells me of

a blue & yellow apron with a big front pocket

where an embroidered hanky generally stays tucked

fringed with tattered, faded lace


Percolating coffee bubbles atop an always-warm wood cookstove

while bread bakes golden in dented tin pans

huddled deep within the wood-fired oven’s belly

and lunchtime stew thickens and burps

as it boils in a cast-iron pot


Dirty kids run barefoot through the yard,

chasing crazed, clucking chickens

as a lazy dog sleeps on the covered, swept porch

and well-worn, mended clothes flap on the backyard line

stretched between two towering oaks


A tall, gangly sweaty man leans heavy against porch post

wiping brown dirt and smudging gray grease

across his sunburned forehead

as he pauses to watch his apron-clad wife

pour him a dripping glass of extra sweet lemonade

through an open window

while sheer curtains dance

and cool breezes rush through


A giggling child streaks past

and the rollicking screen door squeaks a bit

before thudding into place

next to a smudgy-windowed, wooden door


I release the rusted metal knob

and bid her farewell

as most secrets stay safe

behind abandoned slanting walls

where paint peels and memories heal


The old farm door bids me goodbye

even as it slightly hangs

off hinges and rests heavy against the wall


Looking back

I barely see the smoky wisp of an apron-clad lady wink and wave

before she discretely slips back into her place

in my imagination

and my heart


Then I know she beckons only a few

who dare to stop

and really see

beyond the old farm door


Like the inspiration for this poem, our hearts are akin to that open door.
Once we’ve flung it wide open for Jesus to come on in,
there is nothing man can do to contain His love therein!
Thank you Susan for sharing with me as I came to you in request to borrow your splendid photograph! In our correspondence, Susan told me a bit of history about that door. It has deep ties to her own Swedish family and my A Farm Door Beckons words actually reflect some of the reality lived on that 1896-established homestead. Wow! Isn’t God just amazing?

5 thoughts on “Farm Door Beckons”

  1. What an incredible story that door opened to you … thank you for sharing your heart and your thoughtful words

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