The Rusty Doorknob

I was reflecting on doorknobs and their use. Without a doorknob, the door will not open properly, nor will it shut properly. Think of all the times you have turned a doorknob (or as in Europe, pushed down on the latch). The Bible speaks of the Lord opening and closing doors, and I can see Jesus' nailed scarred hand on the doorknob, just waiting for us to knock. I wrote this little poem to go along with my reflections. The doorknob I am writing about comes from the old house where I grew up.

The Rusty Doorknob

The rusty doorknob was removed from the old front door
And replaced by a new one to match the carpet on the floor
I have that aged and rusty doorknob sitting in front of me
Some of the hands that turned that doorknob I can see

Others who have left fingerprints on the doorknob are gone
I no longer can see them or talk to them on the phone
But I have precious memories that the doorknob brought back
Of dear departed friends like Malbert King and his son Mack

Many times that doorknob turned and a neighbor entered in
And visited with us as the rain pounded down on the roof's tin
I remembered that time when the doorknob was turned by a hand
That brought news of my daddy's leaving for the promised land

If old doorknobs could write what stories they could pen
About the lives of the many boys, girls, women and men
Whose hands have turned its' rusty round face
And came into the old house and found a safe place

walkin2e