Box

 I don't want to take down my Christmas tree. It is just to perfect to pack up. I was thinking about what is important in this life and it reminded me of this elderly couple in a second hand store. As the older woman strolled down the isles looking at the old items she said to her husband" when we die this is what happens to our stuff, they box it up and bring it here." I laughed as I thought woe in the end we are a box of second hand store things. What is important ? I guess I have hit those markers, I laughed, cried, traveled, lived and loved. But when its all said and done we are just a box of second hand store items. 

It is a cold January day and I'm feel the wings of freedom. No one to tell me when to wake up and when to go to sleep. But most of all the freedom comes when worry is lifted from the soul. What is to worry about sooner or later we all meet our maker . As I gaze at the Christmas tree and not wanting to take it down. The tree becomes a reminder that no one iw promised tomorrow. 

I sailed the ocean, 

walked  alone in the sand,

felt the warmth that only 

dreams command. 

The visuals delightful 

as if you were here, 

and in this moment

our love we shared.

As long as I can dream

I certainly have everything, 

the memories that touch the heart

from that first magical spark.