Wealth, an Inside Job

With my great-grandson, Damian, 

when he was small

There were years when I thought
I would be happy if, for once,
I had a new couch,
instead of the used ones I had
made do with all my life.
When I finally got one -
it was just a couch.
It came, it went,
like all the others.

I spent many years
collecting shelves of books,
a whole wall full.
Now that I live in one room,
I am constantly purging
both shelves and closet,
getting rid of all
I once had gathered,
to create space.

Doing hospice work,
I saw what life boils down to.
In the end, one needs only
toothbrush and comb,
set on the small cabinet
beside one's hospital bed.
I gazed at the photos
beside the beds in palliative care,
showing the full lives
the people had lived,
the houses, dining room sets, good china,
knick-knacks they had treasured,
all long gone,
or soon to be givern away,
or taken to the dump.
Their real wealth, the smiling faces
in the photos of the families
they had cherished.

We take with us
only what we accumulate
in spirit, our soul's growth,
the stories and memories we have made,
and the legacy we leave behind us:
our children, grandchildren,
great-grandchildren,
our true wealth on this earth.


for Sumana's prompt at Midweek Motif: Wealth