15 June 2021

The Things We Save




Things accumulated over years
concern us when we slow down enough
to see how they've anchored us.
We've lived under the illusion that
they love us as much as we love them—
these gifts from friends and lovers:
horse-covered pillows, tree paintings and
prints, a fuzzy green shawl, the angel-
winged begonia, carved maple bowls and
pine boxes, scented candles, ceramic
birds and glass cats, brightly feathered
butterflies—more and more everywhere.

 

But that’s a trick of a mind that thinks
memories flow from those things and not
our own bodies. So now we touch things
and let them go in twos and threes.
We find we didn’t need anchors.
We’re ships nurtured by memories we
co-create, but we root like flowers
to earth, her weather, life and gravity. We
matured and aged in the spirit that
conspires with earth to create and to die.
And after all, is this a mystery that
we need years and decades to discern?


My blog poems are rough drafts.
   Please respect my copyright. 
 If you quote, credit this page.

     © 2021 Susan L. Chast


3 comments:

Anjum Wasim Dar said...

"we root like flowers to Earth", yes rooted we are and placed in Earth we will be. High realism here, striking expressions- we save things only to leave them for others. We drift on like ships in an infinte sea , a never ending current fresh yet aged,
lovely poem Dr Susan.

pc said...

But often, as time passes, we need objects.
Just as the vessel that supports and relates that memory.

It draws the specific memory out of the clutter of our minds.

Sherry Blue Sky said...

I so relate to this poem, as I have lived surrounded by objects that held memories for years. But after FOUR moves which required downsizing, the most serious downsizing this last move, I also learned to let them go - last Christmas, my family received some of my treasures, and I still have the most special things gladdening my eyes and heart in my small space. I really related to this poem, Susan.