A Happy Home

Just a broken down old home place.

Not good for much of anything.

And passers by do wonder why

the birds around yet sing.

If they would only take the time

to see beyond that outer shell.

Perhaps the eyes would soon discover

to them as home it serves so well.

For nests of differing sizes

built in places not easily seen.

Are well protected by wood and tin.

And easily accessed by flapping wings.

And what about that burrow there

just beneath an uneven floor?

The mice that sleep in feathered comfort

need not ask for any more.

From the ant to the lizard.

The squirrel to the raccoon there.

All that long for shelter.

Are gathered safely in God's care.

Impressions formed by distant eyes

are but glances that fail to see.

To fully appreciate the situation

one must move to closer proximity.

For what at first may seem abandoned

and left to it's fate alone.

Just might be more than it appears.

It might still be a happy home.