Poetry from the Holler: A Tribute to Home, Heaven, and the Hands That Raised Me

Some stories come through ink, others through prayer. The two poems below are offerings from my heart, born of red clay, barn-wood, firelight, and faith. They speak of home, loss, resurrection, and the sacred hush of Southern mornings. One looks toward the mountain cradle that raised me. The other listens for the voice of Heaven through an open barn door. Both belong to this land, where roots run deep, and memory never truly dies. Each one written with the same hands that shelled beans on Mamaw’s porch, or brushed dust from old picture frames. They are memories, longings, and soft reckonings, set to rhyme and rhythm. May they meet you where you are, and remind you where you came from.

The Mountain Cradle

I see the sun peaking over the Cumberland mountain,

Morning dew softly kisses the ground.

I hear the rooster crow

,And the creeks quiet trickling sound...

The barn groans,

With its morning yawn.

The smell of a warm fire,

Welcoming in a Southern dawn.

The trees are still,

Listening to a song..

.Melodious sounds of blue birds fill the air

Reminding my soul where it belongs.

Roots run deep in the rocky clay.

Forging traditions of our ancestors past.

As night begins to replace the day,

Here where the sun sinks fast...

Like stars on the water,

Fireflies dance all around.

There is a soft caress of the grass,

As bare feet cross the ground.

Welcoming sounds of an old dirt road,

Like the crackling of a familiar fireplace.

It brings my soul home,

Comforted by the mountains embrace.

God's country bore me,

And molded me with an artist's hand.

We are one and the same,

Myself, the wind, the sky, the earth, this land....

-A.R.Gilpin

I'll See You On the Other Side

Through the barn,

Sweetness lies.

Someday I'll meet you,

In the sky.

Just out the road,

Heaven resides.

With unfailing love,

Beckoning, come inside.

My heart does long,

For that day,

Where all sadness,

 passes away.

Where welcoming arms, 

open wide. 

I will see you, 

On the other side.

Just through the barn,

Home awaits.

Barn doors open wide,

Heaven's gates.

-A.R.Gilpin