The Temple of Reminiscence
 
A floral pattern.  A velvety feel. 
Colors that can actually brighten our mood. 
Spangles that shine.  Sparkling trim. 
Worn, familiar labels.  Smiling faces. 
Musty smells, perfume smells, jangling bells. 
 
On wheels.  On pedestals.  On paper. 
On the countertop, the sill, the table.
 
We are surrounded.
 
We remember the good, hold it up.
Our triumphs over the bad, what we took away from it,
Not what we gave up. 
 
Who wore the patterns, the perfume, the buttons?
Who made everyday objects into something fun?
Who played in our precious lineage,
Carving out our paths, reminding us that we are not separate,
But part of something bigger,
Even when we are most alone? 
 
The people who were there to give us gifts from what little they had-
 
And all the well-being that came with it,
The glorious inner worlds that came with it-
 
Taken away and stowed here and there,
Ready to cut off a slice of the past
For our own nourishment. 
 
Eat and be well while the flavor lasts.