Its a tricky thing to write about pain and hospitality. Fear and Risk. You never know where people have been, recently or through seasons. While I typically tag a verse at the end to support the idea, I think the passage from Corinthians is particularly relevant on this one.

The Foyer Rug

Everybody wants to talk about my foyer rug. 

Kids, parents, new friends and old.

The homeless, helpless and those who love to scold. 

It was given years ago, at a time when no one seemed to care 

Spotless hopeful fabric, free from weather, rain and wear. 

A sponge for libations of joy, guilt, birth and death

Just inside an unlocked door, the collecting ground of confidential breath.

Like Mary Shelley’s opus, a monstrous muddy clump 

Revolving stories no one knew, priceless crusted bumps.

Offensive and disarming, every fiber makes me smile

A greeting for the weary, from wound, weep and trial. 

I’ll leave the door wide open, you can sit and lay your cares

Nothing you can spill is worse than what’s already there.

- B. Oaks