At the Corner of Now and Then

At the Corner of Now and Then

In this hall
old meets new,
separate lives intersect.
His grandmother left
three items
in this hall -
heavy, antique items -
a carved, caned chair,
a heavy, wooden dresser
with elaborately carved handles,
a gold framed mirror.
Upon inspection
never prompted to this point,
I discover
drawers heavily-laden
with old papers
- histories, poetry, writings
and an odd solitary drumstick.
I came and
added three items
to this hall -
small, tentative items -
a flowered plaque,
a wooden plaque,
and a gold basket.
The plaques hold
a declaration and a plea.
The wooden states
"As for me and my house
we will serve the Lord."
The floral says,
"Let everything that has breath
praise the Lord."
The basket holds
my endless clutter -
pens, grocery cards,
telephone numbers, and chapstick.
The antiques remind me
that this house
is not mine.
Our temporary abode
comes with a history.
I hold it loosely.
I don't impose my own order,
if, indeed, I had any order to impose.
I simply share the space,
acknowledge the history,
welcome the gift of
this temporary intersection.
Yet even tonight
in this hall
a kinship has been nurtured.
His grandmother loved words.
I do, too.
And I can bet
she'll be grinning
when I pass her
solitary drumstick on
to my drummer,
her great-grandson.

This was my offering, in response to the poetry prompt from Seedlings in Stone. The prompt was to write a poem about the hall. I'm not a poetry regular. But, when Lucy, set her own challenge to write a poem this year, it resonated with me. You can go to Seedlings in Stone to find others who followed this prompt as well.
==============================
Here are the photos I tried to add last week:



Thankfully, given the generous comments of others, I'm guessing the poem stood fine without the photos. Perhaps I'll try this again.