. The Cabin _Atop the plateau’s rise, __I’m homeward bound, When sights familiar strike my eyes. Come with me---see the scenes I've found. _Turn right off highway 8, __Mount Pleasant Church, Then left, then right, then through the gate Of Dunaway to start your search. _Continue, down the hill __Descend, veer right Around the lake with waters still, Where mist lies softly in the night. _Stay left at Trilium __And soon you’ll see Familiae Domicilium, The cabin, fount of memories. _The bunkroom is where all __We cousins ranged, And listened to rain’s gentle fall While jokes and stories were exchanged. _The dinner bell would ring __And in we’d crowd To eat, and in this gathering We’d visit, joyous voices loud. _And once, we timed it right, __By snow shut in, Were forced to stay an extra night, As crackling fire warmed up the den. _Down to the lake we’d go __Canoes to race. Steer right to see where lilies grow, Or left to find that peaceful place. _But when the summer heat __Our skin did bake, In fish-filled streams we’d bathe our feet, Or swim for hours in this same lake. _We filled our days with fishing, __Mountain bike rides; Clay pigeons, handgun and rifle shooting Or whizzing around in side-by-sides. _Sometimes, in smaller groups, __We hunted quail, With pointers running in skillful loops And flushing birds up from their trails. _‘Twas priceless time I spent, __This much is clear, When only I and Papa went To hunt for big-racked, rutting deer. _Fair Bethany changed my life __Nigh that cascade Of water, agreeing to be my wife Under the woodland’s pleasant shade. _Deep mem’ry is, I find, __A funny thing: Most days it isn’t top of mind, Then rushes on me, tears to bring. _Just as the rains will fill __Some stone-ringed well, Until the water, brimming, spills And o’er the well-built boundary swells. _So I, with outstretched hand, __Pass by the turn, As if my fingers could demand From time more memories to learn. _For soon it’s far behind, __This special place. The road continues, and I find That most good mem’ries have a face. _If God is love, then love __Eternal is. Love’s mem’ries God will store above Till he can fully share what’s His. _So never think them vain, __Love’s memories That you see through your rearview pane. It’s how we taste eternity. . . Nathaniel Todd McKee lives in the Appalachian foothills of Southeastern Tennessee, where he is a Financial Manager.