Roaming Towards Myself

The House of Boxes

Living in chaos
whilst moving toward peace.
The boxes are definitely
piling up in my house.

I went to get
a pair of pyjamas
from my drawer
and realised
in packing
I had made
a fatal error.

I have packed away
more things
than I thought.
My brain obviously said
underwear, socks,
pyjamas…
you won’t need those.

Packing up your life
is a journey of its own.

Living in a house
once filled with children,
now quiet.

The shelves and walls
look ever so bare.

My wardrobe holds
only a few things
left to wear.

But there is healing
in packing up a life
one box at a time.

Moments in time
stored away
in brown boxes
for safekeeping.

You discover things
moving house—
cards, photos, letters
you haven’t seen
for many years.

The odd sentimental relic
that brings you to tears.

Those memories
will be free again
when my new life begins
in another land.

Unpacking a box
a piece of my old home
joining the new—

new belongings,
new memories,
in the new home
I will build.