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There is just something about the feeling of a front porch.
On the porch, one is likely to get lost yet locate exactly what they are looking for.
On the porch, all the senses of the soul are stimulated.
On the porch, there’s the light-heartedness of hummingbirds and honey bees, happy wind-chime harmonies; a healthy habitat for healing headaches and heartache.
On the porch, there are the rocking chair motions as slow as mason jar molasses, while meandering down memory lane, marveling at life’s miracles.
On the porch, there’s a whipping whirlwind as one watches kids grow like wildflowers while holding pinwheels in one hand and a steering wheel in the other.
On the porch, there’s the silent stillness that swaddles like a shawl, shielding from the sonic speed of the surroundings and the stirring stress within, as the still small voice says to simply ‘be still and know.’
On the porch, there’s the bonding of bench-sharing beloveds who banter, beckon, and bestow their very heartbeats.
On the porch, there’s the transition of time and temperature, tenderly teaching thankfulness and tempting with thunderous summertime rain and sweet tea, holiday tricks, treats, trendy trees, and tacky lights.
On the porch, there’s wildlife watching, dog-walker waving, mind wandering, plant watering, worship whispering, wood whittling, word writing, and warm welcomes.
On the porch, there’s perspective as one peeps the present, ponders the past, and pours over future possibilities of pre-Heaven plans and post-Earth party of paramount proportions.
On the porch, all the senses of the soul are stimulated.
On the porch, one is likely to get lost yet locate exactly what they are looking for.
There’s just nothing like the feeling of a front porch.
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