Wednesday, March 4, 2015

Souls In A Jar

Many years ago

Years by the many

I used to work for a shop

That bought scrap metal

A man came in with a bag

Hanging from his bony body

With his brows lifted he asked

If we sent scrap gold off to be melted down

Refined for money

I said, we did

He then pulled from his bag

A one gallon pickle jar

Filled to the top with gold teeth

The roots looked like

Stalactites and Stalagmites

Bunched together within the glass

I asked, where did you get these?

He said, he worked for a funeral home

I said, get out!

He said, he came about the teeth legal

He said, I would miss out on lots of money

I said, some things transcend making money

He would have to find someone else

To handle his thousand curses in a jar

Over 20 years has passed since that moment

The shop has long since closed

The owner now dead and buried

Yet, I’m sure someone was willing

To melt down those teeth

Into rings and jewelry

For the living to wear and make

Unforgettable memories of love and commitment  

The other day I read the pope

Once pried a small crucifix

Off a friend’s coffin

And now carries it wherever he goes

Some kind of a keepsake

I believe

A keepsake of some kind

It’s strange what’s taken from us

Even in the end

Yet, some spend lifetimes fighting

For all they can gather

Whether sentimental or tangible

Valuable or dots on a map adventures 

Most are chasing something

To put in their pocket

Put in their bank

To pull out and show others

Yet, does any of this

Mean anything to the billons

Of stars in the sky?

Or to

Our little speck of sand and water

Floating in a galaxy, beside a galaxy

Beside a galaxy, beside a galaxy

And so on, and so on, and so on


Look up sometime

Realize, we’re also just a speck in the sky

To the eyes of the universe

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