Picture by Härmägeddon via Wikimedia Commons
One of my favorite poets, Shel Silverstein, wrote about an attic. An attic of not the usual brick and mortar type but of the human brain.
A Light in the Attic
“There’s a light on in the attic.
Though the house is dark and shuttered,
I can see a flickerin’ flutter….”
Shel Silverstein A Light in the Attic
The majority of the time my light is on in my attic but to know how bright it will shine, well that is just a daily gamble. As a mom, some days my light is more of a dim haze due to whatever lengths I have taken to keep my family’s ship a float.
Seeing as how I am in the early mid years of life, still many of years to look forward to but many years to look back and glean from, I have gained a bit of a collection in my attic that is quite the assortment to sift through.
I grab my coffee or tea many days, hoping it will help crank up the wattage and get my brain working. My attic, where will it take me? A time of prayer? A snippet of a favorite verse, book, or poem? A family moment or memory? A replay of a movie, production, or TV show? Or one of those times where it takes your breathe away?
Everyone’s attic’s have those scary, science class, skeletons in them or the trash filled, moldy boxes, all of which we hope no one sees, fearing we will scare them or disgust them. Whatever you find in your attic, cherish it or throw it out but crank up the wattage and see what treasures you have hidden in there because you never know what you are going to find, I know I sure don’t.
Welcome to my attic. Pardon the cobwebs!
the attic awaits 