The Unseen Trunks: A Tale of Baggage and Beauty.

In a quiet corner of my heart, there lies a collection of trunks—each one a vessel, each one a story. They don’t scream for attention; they nestle there, like old friends who know when to speak and when to listen. These trunks, you see, aren’t mere baggage; they’re the tapestry of my existence—the warp and weft of memories, pain, and cherished moments.

The Suitcases of Survival

Let’s start with the suitcases—the ones that bear witness to my battles. Death, divorce, trauma—they’ve all left their imprints. I’ve seen wars unfold—the devastation etched into faces, the echoes of gunfire reverberating in my bones. And addictions? They clawed at my soul, threatening to consume me. Imperfect, yes—but deserving of love? Absolutely.

The Whisper of Purpose

Now, here’s the secret: Baggage isn’t about the weight; it’s about how we carry it. Some days, my suitcases hide pain—the shards of broken dreams, the scars I’m not ready to touch. But other days, they cradle memories—the scent of sun-kissed summers, laughter shared under moonlit skies.

The Trunks of Mystery

Ah, the trunks—the grand guardians of secrets. Tucked away, they wear lacey cloths like veils, veils that hint at their mysteries. A vase of flowers graces their tops—a delicate offering to the past. And there, beside them, books and a lamp—the wisdom of ages, the light that pierces shadows.

God’s Unique Creation

I’ve often wondered why these trunks exist. Are they God’s design, these vessels of memory? Perhaps. Maybe He wove them into my being—their wood and brass echoing His fingerprints. Each trunk holds something sacred—a promise, a revelation, a piece of eternity.

The Unopened Letters

Inside, I imagine treasures. A wedding gown, pristine and waiting—a whisper of vows unspoken. Or a christening robe, cradling innocence—a legacy passed down through generations. And letters—oh, the letters! Words entrusted to me, like fragile birds, to deliver on a wedding day or a baptismal morn.

Containers of Beauty

But here’s the twist, my dear: These trunks aren’t burdens; they’re beauty. They’re the decor of my soul—the patina of resilience, the polish of grace. They don’t weigh me down; they lift me up. For within them lies the paradox: They’re containers, yes, but they’re also wings.

The Home Within

So, when you see me—the container—know that I carry more than meets the eye. My trunks, my suitcases—they’re not baggage; they’re chapters. And this home I live in daily? It’s adorned with their presence—the flowers, the lace, the flicker of the lamp.

Until We Meet Again

And so, my friends, let us celebrate these unseen trunks. Let us honor their purpose—the pain they cradle, the memories they unveil. For they’re not just mine; they’re part of our shared tapestry. Until we meet again, my love, may your own trunks whisper stories of beauty.

Trunks and Suitcases: A Poem of Remembrance

In the attic of my soul, there lies a treasure trove—
Trunks and suitcases, weathered and wise.
They whisper secrets, memories interwoven,
Their clasps guarding stories that refuse to die.

The Suitcases of Survival

The suitcases stand tall, their leather worn thin,
Each one a vessel for survival’s journey.
They bear witness to battles fought in shadows—
Death, divorce, trauma—their silent testimony.

Inside, folded neatly, are fragments of existence:
The scent of rain-soaked earth after a storm,
The echo of laughter shared under moonlight,
And the weight of unspoken words, heavy and warm.

The Trunks of Mystery

But ah, the trunks—those ancient sentinels!
They wear lacey cloths like veils of memory.
Their tops cradle vases of flowers—
Delicate blooms, offerings to the unseen.

And what lies within? Perhaps a wedding gown—
Ivory silk, waiting for vows whispered in sunlight.
Or a christening robe, soft as a mother’s touch—
Generations linked by water, by grace, by right.

And letters—oh, the letters!
Sealed with ink and longing, they rest there.
Words entrusted to me, like fragile birds—
To deliver on a wedding day, a promise to bear.

Containers of Beauty

But listen closely, my friend: These aren’t burdens.
They’re beauty—the patina of resilience, the polish of grace.
They don’t weigh me down; they lift me up—
For within them lies paradox, a sacred space.

The Home Within

So when you see me—the container—know this:
My trunks, my suitcases—they’re not mere baggage.
They’re the decor of my soul, the tapestry of living—
The flowers, the lace, the flicker of the lamp’s message.

And as I journey through life’s winding corridors,
I’ll carry them with reverence, these vessels of mine.
For they’re not just containers; they’re whispers of eternity—
The unseen trunks and suitcases, where memories entwine.

Metaphors for the Human Experience

Our human experiences are vast and multifaceted, and metaphors allow us to distill their essence into vivid images. Here are some metaphors that capture different facets of our existence:

1. The Journey: Life as a winding road, with twists, turns, and unexpected detours. Each step reveals new landscapes, challenges, and companions.
2. The Tapestry: Our lives woven together like threads—bright moments, dark patches, and intricate patterns. Every thread contributes to the whole.
3. The Garden: Our hearts as fertile soil. We plant seeds of love, tend to relationships, and pull out weeds of negativity. Growth requires both sunlight and rain.
4. The Ocean: Emotions ebb and flow like tides. Sometimes calm, sometimes stormy. Beneath the surface lies hidden depth and mystery.
5. The Book: Each day a page turned. Chapters of joy, sorrow, and growth. Some pages dog-eared with memories, others left unmarked.
6. The Symphony: Life’s harmonies and dissonances. We play different instruments—work, love, family. Together, they create our unique melody.
7. The Mirror: Our reflections—both physical and emotional. We see ourselves, but also project our hopes, fears, and dreams onto it.
8. The Phoenix: Rising from ashes—resilience after loss. We burn, we transform, we soar anew.
9. The Puzzle: Life as scattered pieces. We search for connections, fit them together, and create a picture of purpose.
10. The Dance: Partnerships, friendships, and interactions. We step forward, retreat, twirl, and find rhythm in shared moments.

Remember, my friends, these metaphors are like keys—they unlock different doors within us. Choose the ones that resonate with your heart, and let them guide you through this beautiful, messy, and extraordinary human experience.

With all my love,

Brendalee