Things accumulated over yearsconcern us when we slow down enoughto see how they've anchored us.We've lived under the illusion thatthey love us as much as we love them—these gifts from friends and lovers:horse-covered pillows, tree paintings andprints, a fuzzy green shawl, the angel-winged begonia, carved maple bowls andpine boxes, scented candles, ceramicbirds and glass cats, brightly featheredbutterflies—more and more everywhere.
But that’s a trick of a mind that thinksmemories flow from those things and notour own bodies. So now we touch thingsand let them go in twos and threes.We find we didn’t need anchors.We’re ships nurtured by memories weco-create, but we root like flowersto earth, her weather, life and gravity. Wematured and aged in the spirit thatconspires with earth to create and to die.And after all, is this a mystery thatwe need years and decades to discern?
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© 2021 Susan L. Chast
"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,
ReplyDeletelovely poem Dr Susan.
But often, as time passes, we need objects.
ReplyDeleteJust as the vessel that supports and relates that memory.
It draws the specific memory out of the clutter of our minds.
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.
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