New House, New Baby?

A glance around the room...  

My life has folded,

Concertina-d,
Shrunk,
Compressed itself,
Compartmentalised,
Deconstructed.
 

Time for stock taking:

Inventory of
Reduced circumstances.
 

On the second shelf

‘Essential supplies’ –
Wine and beer cellar,
Tea and coffee refills,
Beneath them
A row of shoes,
Waiting to go
Somewhere.
 

The top shelf

Casts light on the proceedings.
Will it light up the way ahead?
A row of candle holders
And tea lights
From the dining room drawer,
Reminiscent
Of a hundred candlelit dinners.
 

In between,

A selection of favourites:
Books, music,
A tin of sewing things,
Crossword puzzles,
An address book
Full of family and friends
And a stapler
To hold everything together.

A biscuit tin,

Showing Van Gogh
In pensive mood,
Creating
Something bright and new.
Artist’s materials at the ready.

We too stand to attention

Like a tube of oils,
Squeezed,
Contained,
Till we can emerge boldly,
Shiny and bright,
Onto a new canvas.

My old life

Crammed into this tiny space,
Waiting,
Waiting,
Waiting
For a new birth.

A life in miniature,

Like my mother’s life
At the end:
The remnants,
Crammed into one room,
A nursing home room -
Coffin-shaped -
But surrounded by memories
Of a life
That lived and loved.

But I’m not finished yet!

A new life
Will emerge
From this chrysalis –
A one-off original,
An artist’s creation,
Out of the fragments –
Just wait and see...

Hey presto!

The jack-in-a-box
Will spring open;
Remnants of my life
Bursting out,
Regrouping,
Restoring my life
To active duty
From this passive waiting time.