I remember the day they moved in next door
With their children, their dog and the cat
The neighbourhood came to life again
And there's nothing wrong with that
He moved his family to our town
To be close to his community
A pastor living in the midst of his Church
Now that's the best place to be
We tried to do the neighbourly thing
And welcome them to our block
We were greeted with a house of smiles
The moment, on their door, that we knocked
Over the years, we have enjoyed the life
That flowed from our neighbour's yard
The children's laughter and even their fights
To not appreciate both would be hard
On Sunday's we would watch them leave
To church, and wave them well
But to church is not our place to go
In our yard is where we dwell
And yet over all the years
We never felt judged by him for our choice
He became our backyard pastor
With a different kind of voice
Often we chat over the fence
Of topics much like a supper stew
Life, God and vegetables
We talk like neighbours do
He told me once that winter was hard
And not because of the snow and the cold
"I don't get to visit as much with my neighbours"
Now there is a heart of gold
We walked into him the other day
And his smile had faded some
But there was joy still flowing from his face
Like through all the years had done
A diagnosis of cancer
News that no one wants to hear
What will become of our backyard pastor
Our hearts began to fear
But in that moment I remembered
That the moment is what we have
We must live in each moment
And let that make us glad
Tomorrow is never guaranteed
Life gives us only today
To admire the beauty of the sunflowers
That grow along the way
In that moment our backyard pastor
Told us that we were special, too
When the moment is all you have
Sharing your heart is what you do
We've never called him "Pastor"
Though to others he's a reverend
A neighbour has no title
So we just call him friend
It would be our earnest prayer
That his time on earth be filled
With joy, with love, with gratitude
As the Creator has already willed
So a warm and hearty "Thank you"
To our neighbour, we want to send
For amazing years as our backyard pastor
But mostly as our friend
Poet's note: written September 30, 2020 For Keith, our backyard pastor, neighbour and friend. Last night, on July 15, 2021... he died . I changed nothing in the poem from when I wrote it last fall.
The photo is a picture I took this morning of our gardens. Only a chainlink fence and my bunny fence separate our home grown produce. I will miss our conversations over that fence.
