Sorting thru boxes in the basement
I find random, scattered remnants
things I thought were important
crammed into unmarked containers
the notebook I used to keep track
of the times I nursed my first baby
sleep deprived scribblings
evidence of a mother’s nervous dedication
keep
the childhood rock collection
in a scratched plastic box
purchased with my own money
from a vacation gift shop
keep
the cards I bought but never sent
misplaced when they were needed
people absent from my life now
no longer worth saving
discard
these bits and pieces are like lines on a map
the road leads to a place of order
but I am lost amongst the stories
and don’t want to find my way just yet
1 comment:
i remember
when my kids were young
how concerned they were when we were lost in the car... as if it were permanent!
in a way, we're always lost.
and just learn to go with it!
your story reminds us
of the difference between
things and treasures.
sometimes, often, we don't know
where we are, where we fit...
but it's okay. it's okay. peace~
Post a Comment