It looks like a jumble of junk on a bedside table.
Look closer. It's anything but.
Here sits a repository of wishes and witness to good intentions.
Tangible clues of my roots, wings and everything in between.
Books that I ache to read, but haven't made the time.
They taunt me.
A picture intended to remind me to be kind to myself and others.
It fails. I keep it there anyway.
Comfort through ritual and remembrance. Respite in the storm.
All watching as I sleep.
Linking up with Mama Kat's writing prompt: Write a post in just 12 lines.