Photo: Pezibear at pixabay.com
“Life is rather like a tin of sardines – we’re all of us looking for the key.” Alan Bennett
Sometimes Sometimes there are moments when the world seems to shake and tilt, like when you open that cupboard down in the back room, the one which hasn't been opened for a hundred years, an exaggeration worthy of its own merit, for a long time nonetheless, and typically in the back corner of the second shelf, it's always the second shelf isn't it? the place where the faded, desiccated, shoe box is lodged. And you cannot resist opening it to see what treasures have been forgotten. Various tiny kitsch, some paper mementos, a plastic thing, some coins and a cable from some long deceased device among others, and suddenly a door in the memory opens, albeit a rosy one, perhaps, and you wander down that lane recalling how each item is vested in your experience. In the end you realise that each item forms a collective whole, a key, not only to the past, but also to the future, the door being the fluid moment, the threshold of choices, if we but free ourselves to choose, to let the key lead us to transformation rather than remaining in romanticised memories which leads me to say that sometimes the past is best left in a box on the second shelf. Copyright 2022 ©Paul Vincent Cannon All Rights Reserved ®️
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Thank you again 🙂
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My pleasure, Paul! xx Michael
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Very thought provoking, as we are always open for a surprise. 😉 Thanks for sharing, Paul! Have a nice Christmas Week! xx Michael
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Happy Christmas my friend xx
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Thanks as well, Paul! xx Michael
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… a key, not only to the past, but also to the future, very well said.
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I love the use of metaphor in this one, both concrete and thought-provoking.
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Much appreciated feedback Liz, thank you very much.
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You’re welcome, Paul.
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But, Paul, I like remaining in my romanticised memeories…sometimes!
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I think – yes do that, the real issue is those who are completely stuck in the past 😉
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Great Piece💯Love this
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Many thanks indeed 🙂
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You’re welcome 🤗
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It seems to me that this poem expresses the idea that each time we recall a memory, we are in a different place than when we last experienced the memory, so the memory itself changes by remembering. Hope I am not way off base on this one. That’s what I read into your lovely poem.
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Right on point in fact, well picked LuAnne and many thanks for this 🙂
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Beautiful and so true – well written and crafted
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