A chair is never empty

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I needed to walk.

Then walk some more.

And I did.

Climbing every rolling hill of green I saw.

But soon I was lost.

Then lost again.

Perhaps I wanted to be.

A mourning dove appeared as if to guide me back towards home.

Yet it was not a route I’d expected.

I soon found I was swimming in a sea of azaleas.

Pink, purple, white and orange.

In front of the citrus blooms stood one yellow chair.

A lonely old chair, some might say.

But I only saw its loving heart as azalea branches embraced us both in a breeze.

I’m thinking a chair is never truly empty.

Nor are we.

Our sweetest memories could just bloom there forever.

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4 thoughts on “A chair is never empty

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