Spent time going thru my childhood
trunk today. So many little treasures;
so many memories . . .
A steamship my daddy made me, ever
so beautiful! A cute little bunny apron,
hand made and embroidered, by my
aunt I think. Embroidery that I had
done as a child.
Seems to me, the trunk of memorabilia
held those childhood gems I simply
couldn't bear to part with. Strange how
some items brought a chuckle, others
tears and some I didn't recall at all.
Sitting on the floor, flooded with
emotions, I glanced up and instantly
calmed by a panorama of my adult
bits and pieces. Some gracing tables,
others hanging on the walls, and not
to forget my altars.
Seems to me, 'tis a human kind of
thing that leads us to collecting and
hanging onto those precious finds.
They are the bank that holds and
tenders the cache of our most
treasured memories.
Some reach a point in which housing
them in their mind is enough, hence
clearing out. Others simply cannot
bear to part and thus begins a kind
of hoarding. I suppose a mid point
might preferably be sought . . .
relics of my past
my heart ever holding fast
bits of lost and found
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