A Life Dismantled
sifting through the decades
of accumulated stuff
must haves in the moment
diamonds in the rough
for those timeless treasures,
only bubble wrap will do
shake the dust and cobwebs off
comfy well worn shoes
gently slip the photographs
from old broken frames
happy memories mingling
with faces with no names
shedding all the dross
that held me in the past
so to travel lighter
with only things that last
yet another chapter waits
its pages to be penned
each day, the simple gift of life
to live full to the end
~kat
I must admit this downsizing thing has truly disoriented me. I find myself clinging to routine, the easiest thing to assimilate to my new surroundings. But I have yet to find that sweet spot, where words flow like honey, where my eyes see things in ways that only an artist and writer can. I’m learning to live off the grid, with its big, starry black-mantled silence, and amber sunrises over distant mountains in the morning. For now they only manage to take my breath away. There are no words apart from the few sing-songy rhymes I manage to eke out. I know she’s in there…somewhere in the recesses of my mind…the muse who so relentlessly pursued me amidst the clutter and cacophony of city life. But here in the country? She must be cavorting with the faeries, giggling from behind downed tree hollows at my dizzy dry spell. I had every intention to start January 1st, full steam ahead. Part of the issue, I think, may be that I still need to unload the stuff we left behind and sell the dark, drafty, century old house I called home for over a decade. I need to be free of it. And so, I will drop a line now and again until I regain my footing. Peace and love to you. Until next glimpse…❤️
