The Carriage My Family Laid
Photo by Paul Basel
It’s safe to feel this comfort.
These stairs were firmly set.
I knew the carpenters that laid them here.
Very proud, and I of their carriage.
They were built to wind through corridors
of different lives; their balusters hardly
making a sound except to soften, rise,
or widen to fill the requirements
of which ever hand should touch its parapet.
I’m familiar with the wood they used.
Each solid surface supporting a tread
we’ve been before—sometimes broken
or shabby or welcoming.
It takes each footstep willingly,
catching and balancing its weight to distribute
it perfectly to its landing and so forth,
anticipating others like it or exact;
it’s accustomed to many.
It has to hold some recollect;
it’s amazing the same stairs are always here.
If not for the patience and care that carved it…
nevertheless pressure can not be discarded.
We may decide to avoid its incline,
but, someone else will find them.
It will be admired.
The newel will reveal its destination in excitement
and its passage will appear renewed;
as long as its color, its form, its architecture,
its reliability remains the same.
If for any reason they become worn,
weathered down, neglected, beaten, unkempt, mistreated,
left to go, you know, used,
they might lose their appeal,
but, they will remain.
And, if given enough time,
it may find itself the benefit of adjacent
or neighboring stairways, somehow retaining
an antique value claimed simply not to exist.
But will remain.
That single trait that was overlooked
or taken for granted or mistaken
for something less than authentic
will not have altered.
Maybe the light that read its details fell away.
Yes, there are others always passing yet,
it’s fond of a particular kind.
If this is true, amongst more than one way,
how is it, really that any way proves clear.
That where we go is ours to take.
That the road we build wasn’t always made.
That years ago what would have shared,
was abandoned rightly so.
That you have found, a treasure still,
and kept it as your own.
As you judge its features you will question
how it possible never to have passed it before,
but recall how long it’s been since you ventured.
It’s safe to feel this comfort here,
it’s suffered many trials.
It will feel your glance as a charter
to be granted all passage,
with detailed description and no omissions.
If any splinter you carry should tell you differently,
shed them like tears upon its dry surface
and watch how easily they’re absorbed.
Though numerous the happenstance
that brought you safely here,
just disregard this weathered case.
Paint it as your own.
The wood beneath shall remain.