This image is borrowed from Dan Anton’s blog: nofacilities.com with his permission.
It had stood as a barrier for so many years that people forgot why it was there in the first place. And then, there was no one left to remember.
It stood proudly for many years. Shiny and strong. It was a barrier yes, for a while but it was also an acknowledgment: This is my place. You may be welcome. The gate did open.
Over the years, lovers traded stolen kisses across that gate. Recipes were exchanged and broken hearts mended. Friends passed through the fence a thousand times and arguments ended with a slammed gate, a thousand times more. But everything moves on, inexorably. Children become parents and grandparents become ancestors. Generations. Families. Years become decades. Everything dies.
Alone. The once shiny posts turned brown with rust and there was no one left to scrape it clean. Hinges broke and the fence fell. In time it was absorbed by the forest. A forest that once was kept at bay by the shiny new fence. All that was left was the gate.
There was a sense of pride, a sense of a job well done. You see, the gate was not inanimate. It may have been created by the hands of people but spirits are alive in places that we do not know and cannot understand. But it was time.
The Spirit from within the gate felt the life force beginning it’s final journey and it remembered. Laughter and tears, wild eyed curiosity and astonishment. Life was a strange and wonderful experience. For a time. Now, sleep.