The House Where I Once Lived

The house stands still where I once lived.
Its window panes are gone.
Now in the place where I once played
Obnoxious weeds have grown.

The piers and truss that held it up
Are useless anymore.
The roof remains, but now the rain
Falls through upon the floor.

Where once was heard the mocking bird
Sing out his song of glee,
The hackberry bough I climbed is now
Only a memory.

The Adams Apple bush, so lush,
With leaves and limbs entwined
Is history, but verdantly
Still grows within my mind.

The sun roof o’er the front porch floor
That held the old porch swing
Has fallen down, where all around
We used to play and sing.

I don’t go back to that old shack.
What used to be is gone.
‘Twas nothing more than shelter for
My happy childhood home.

Somehow, some way, somewhere, some day,
You’ll hear somebody tell
About my death and final breath,
And sound the mournful knell.

You’ll look and see what used to be
The form I occupied.
Dead flesh and bone with tenant gone,
No occupant inside.

My loved ones dear will shed a tear,
As I have done for those
So dear to me who now are free
From flesh and blood and bones.

I shall not be eternally
Constrained to bear this frame,
But over there a form I’ll bear
Free from disquieting pain.

When this still form, no longer warm,
Lies lifeless, cold, and dead,
Put it away, this house of clay
From which the tenant fled.

Then think of me as being free
In that eternal land,
Where always I shall occupy
A house made by His hands.