{"id":1624,"date":"2024-05-22T16:34:08","date_gmt":"2024-05-22T16:34:08","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/dharamshalacamps.com\/sanjay\/?p=1624"},"modified":"2024-05-22T16:34:08","modified_gmt":"2024-05-22T16:34:08","slug":"i-did-right","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/dharamshalacamps.com\/sanjay\/i-did-right\/","title":{"rendered":"I did right"},"content":{"rendered":"<p>I stand, my hand<br \/>\ngently waking the old wooden gate.<br \/>\nBefore me, across the startled lawn<br \/>\nmy little house looks at me<br \/>\nthrough the weeds, askance.<\/p>\n<p>Alone it has lived for twenty years<br \/>\ngrowing rust of sorrow and fears.<\/p>\n<p>Tears trickle inwards, searing the heart.<br \/>\nThen together they take a private trip<br \/>\nand eyes silently smart.<br \/>\nMy feet work out a step<br \/>\nthe gate warms its hinges.<br \/>\nTime, hiding under a shroud of leaves<br \/>\nand mourning the dead of spring<br \/>\nsteps out to greet the present.<br \/>\nThe door, oak, old and standing<br \/>\nnever looked more alive.<br \/>\nNever before the answer came in sight.<br \/>\nHey yes,<br \/>\nyes, you did right.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>I stand, my hand gently waking the old wooden gate. Before me, across the startled lawn my little house looks at me through the weeds, askance. Alone it has lived for twenty years growing rust of sorrow and fears. Tears trickle inwards, searing the heart. Then together they take a private trip and eyes silently smart. My feet work out [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[30],"tags":[],"aioseo_notices":[],"rttpg_featured_image_url":null,"rttpg_author":{"display_name":"sanjayji","author_link":"https:\/\/dharamshalacamps.com\/sanjay\/author\/sanjayji\/"},"rttpg_comment":0,"rttpg_category":"<a href=\"https:\/\/dharamshalacamps.com\/sanjay\/category\/poems\/\" rel=\"category tag\">Poems<\/a>","rttpg_excerpt":"I stand, my hand gently waking the old wooden gate. Before me, across the startled lawn my little house looks at me through the weeds, askance. Alone it has lived for twenty years growing rust of sorrow and fears. Tears trickle inwards, searing the heart. Then together they take a private trip and eyes silently&hellip;","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/dharamshalacamps.com\/sanjay\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1624"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/dharamshalacamps.com\/sanjay\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/dharamshalacamps.com\/sanjay\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/dharamshalacamps.com\/sanjay\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/dharamshalacamps.com\/sanjay\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1624"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/dharamshalacamps.com\/sanjay\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1624\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1625,"href":"https:\/\/dharamshalacamps.com\/sanjay\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1624\/revisions\/1625"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/dharamshalacamps.com\/sanjay\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1624"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/dharamshalacamps.com\/sanjay\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=1624"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/dharamshalacamps.com\/sanjay\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1624"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}