Why do I hold onto all these keepsakes
In reality what does their treasure prove,
As I surround myself with collectables
Over which I croon.
What is it about the pretties I cherish
While grasping tight to keep,
Would my heart survive their loss
Or softly grieve too deep.
Every one, displaying a memory here and there
From my mother, or even older still,
And from each special friend
Gifts my heart to fill.
What is it, of our deeper self
That is so connected to each antique thing,
Could they distract us from moving on
Into the impact tomorrow may bring.
Are we afraid of losing some of ourselves
By parting with the bric-a-brac,
When we know it has lost its glory
And in fact is dusty, drab and cracked.
If a natural disaster should strike
And destroy all of the past,
Would I only then, carry all that lasts forever
Where it belongs, within my heart.
Please heal me of all these fears Lord
Help me to put my hope in You,
Where there are no bygones that fade,
Only beautiful keepsakes
That are genuine and true.
Soft Whispers from
Derry's Heart Poems © 2004