I Miss My Stuff

I miss my stuff

It’s not much

It’s not important

Really

Just things

Packed into boxes

Stored in a dusty shed

Put away so I could travel

See new places

Teach students

Work with cows

And people too of course

The land and animals

Are so rewarding

Gentle honest simple

Give up their secrets freely

Seek balance harmony Life

People are more challenging

They struggle with their truth

At times somewhat reluctant

To face all that their shown

In their own revelations

Of Being and of Life

But still oh so rewarding

Every mile and signpost past

To know that hope and healing

For each one that I meet

Has been theirs for creating

And I a privileged observer

Of their journey in mine

But

I miss my stuff at times

To wake to the familiar

To gaze on things of old

To reminisce in nano moments

Of all it represents

An Eagle book or some small token

Of a grandchild’s journey too

Photos snuggly slippers

Things that cannot journey

In a suitcase or Car-boot

But are with me yet each time I return

To that storage shed of mine

And pause a mo to drink them in

These memories in boxes

Then thank the Universe for my life

Of Road Rivers and bags

Of bumps and roadhouses

Motel rooms and farmsheds

And ever changing destinations

But the people all the same

Precious Evolving Creating

Loving and nurturing

Land home and self

I would not change this highway

I travel willingly toward

All those I meet upon the road

I miss my stuff

But I would miss them more