1/17/11

I sit inside my home with things displayed so I can see them,

And think upon what has become my very own museum.

The artifacts that hearken back to triumph, joy, and strife,

Loose, scattered, scraps of salience 'tween milestones of life.

A grand exhibit of my most significant effects.

Yet, in this diorama, caution, likewise, must be kept.

For while this archive of my acquisitions does console,

It only mirrors what has passed, and reverently extols,

The marks that fade as those who made them cease to grant them life.

From time to time I must remind myself to go outside,

On expedition, to explore with old and newer friends,

To bring new treasures back and fill my galleries again.