We're Really Just Here to Sort the Clutter a poem from 2010

http://voices.yahoo.com/were-really-just-here-sort-clutter-6560644.html?cat=10




We're Really Just Here to Sort the Clutter



Sorting clothes, sorting laundry, sorting possessions, sorting our lives'"
This we'll toss, no wait, this we may need, no wait it is but junk, toss it anyway.
Keep, give away, toss, one's trash another's price possessions.



Stuff it store it, forget about it.
Clutter up to our ears.
Each piece a hard earned memory.



Tossing the clutter, tossing the excess, how could it be so much stress?
It is because every bit, every piece was once a prize.
Trashing every item, giving it all away, it is so very hard.



You see my friend with each item tossed it's like a piece of our world is gone.
Each item , each little piece has it's tie, perhaps you think I'm mistaken, but truly I'm not.
You see that vase over there? It held flowers in memory of a loved one who died.



Look over there see that faded scrap of paper? It was the last note written by a child who died too soon.
See again over there that little spoon, it was a gift given from a friend far away.
Look over there see that blouse? It was the one you wore when you were married...



Each little piece seems holds a memory dear, to a sentimental heart.
Yet each piece is a clutter it's true, each piece a small tie to a time long since past.
Letting go so often hard to do, because when all is gone we truly see what is left.



Material possessions deemed so important, often are truly but rubbish.
Seems each little bit can in its own way be a justified keepsake.
Yet others unattached laugh, as we keep a" cluttery" mess of items of no true use.



Keeping memories of time long past, of loved ones long gone.
Knowing we should toss our heart just wishes for more time with those who are long gone.
Fearing at times to toss the clutter we hold on.



Fearing why, you may ask. The answer my friend it is ever so easy, for you see memories fade so fast.
Lovely memories fading so fast, seems it's easier still yet to hold in our hands, a tangible memory of something we've long forgotten.
Hoping in vain to find what time and circumstance has stolen from us we hold tight that which we can touch and see.



Knowing we shouldn't we hold on too tightly, till at the last it must be pulled from our clamped hand.
With each new item loss a tie is broken; relieved is the tightly held heavy burden.
Yet, a each piece of clutter is tossed we feel light-headed and unsteady.



Unsteady, and light, because the ties that bound held us fast to this earthly ground.
As the bonds are broken loosened and freed our soul soon begins to breathe.
Contained within our fleshly body, our soul often struggled to breathe as after many possessions we strove all around.



Tossing, sorting giving away, becomes easier with much practice it's true.
So we practice today what yesterday we tried in vain to do.
Clutter soon cleared away, our memories soon stored in Heaven for all to share.



Letting go it is not too hard once you know that all material possessions and earthly wealth will soon fly as an eagle far away.
So today we sort, tomorrow we give it all away.



Leaving the clutter far behind, we soar'"
Untethered and unbound, we finally hear the coming Lions' roar.
Soon the night cometh, when none can work.



Soon we'll leave behind this world filled with our perceived riches and wealth untold.
One day we will truly see the rubbish we held so tight for what it was.
Staring we'll wonder how we held so much in such a fast and tight hand hold.



May I be so bold my friend to say, you as I may be guilty too often of trusting in many things that will never last.
Trusting in ourselves and our abilities, we reach for the heavens, and the stars.



Neglecting too often to reach out to the one who created both the heavens and the stars and so much more.
My friend, count it not lost if all your material possessions you must loose once again.
For surely every item you keep must be maintained.


 
Maintaining and stewardship it is a gift it is true, but excess my friend truly it is a cruel hoax and a curse.
Racing to keep up with the latest fad, we fail to see the snare and the trap.
Too late we become tangled in a web we can never alone unweave.


 
  Other's stand and mock, forgetting the snare that already ensnares them at their very waist.
Laughing, jesting and pointing they say they'd never allow this or that --
But my dearest friend the highway to Hell it is truly paved with the good advice and intentions of those who have never walked in our shoes.



Others believe they could do better, others know they could do much better.
But my friends if inside my skin you cannot go, then truly you jest when you suggest the clutter it is my fault all alone'"
But don't worry my dear, for you see this world it is not really my home.



I'm only passing through collecting clutter, clearing clutter, untangling the many snares I've unwarily wandered into.
You see it is easy to say you'd toss everything all at once, but my dear have you turned and looked behind you?
See that treasured pile of your own over there? Truly you jest if you think you'll take that album into your Heavenly home.



Soon my dear Christian friend we'll leave all the clutter we treasure so much far behind.
No picture albums, no collections, no bank accounts, no sentimental keepsakes will we carry with us.
Letting go my dear friend becomes so much easier when we remember that we can never truly hold our material possessions for all eternity.



So now I must go as I sort through so much clutter.
Sorting today what was a treasure, a gift, yet now a burden, as there is too much excess.
So my dear I'll give it a rest, for we all know our treasured memories, our collections are truly what causes the greatest mess.