Moving Still

Rap-a-pac pack
Roll fold behold!
A pile makes itself
Then another piles on
Add some confusion and indecision
There’s a full package!
Meandering soles
Wheels on board
Life on hold
Or perpetually un-still?
If you look from across the window
It is moving
If you look around
It is still
Like trapped air
Waiting to be let loose
From an unexpected anchor.

Meanwhile the pile erupts
How many clothes does one need
To stay truly mobile ?
What bags suffice
To hoard the bathroom and dresser
So your luggage feels like home?
What perfume will smell like
The bedsheet you last slept on?
What shoes will match
The mood of your pajamas on the day
When nothing is going your way -
I really need to go out and get some air -
What do I wear?
Is the world really your oyster?
Right now it feels like a hard-case shell
Holding life’s precious contents
Unwieldy and cold.

Open sesame!
Out comes the pregnant pile
Like a magician’s handkerchief
Before you know it
This is your life —
A never ending stream of stuff
That you call precious
That you call home
That you call you.
The things you thought you chose
actually chose you
they fight for your attention
crammed into centimetres
of life’s current real estate —
the big fat briefcase!
It’s hard to remember what it was like
Before you lived on temporary baggage.