Our house is under construction
and the metaphors in my mind keep running wild;
there is a lot of tearing down of old walls-
which makes quite a mess at first,
no matter how much you try to keep it contained;
splintered wood, chunks of plaster,
nails aimed straight at your tenderfoot.
It's noisy too - you can't hear yourself think!
Then there's the clean up,
carefully avoiding getting hurt in the process,
tough gloves on,
lifting the heavy load and hauling it out,
I still stumble, husband needs a bandaid.
We are helped by one another.
Alone in this new place I lift the broom and do a final sweep
and it's then I pause;
such expanse of space,
light where there was little,
visions of what is possible.
I love this tearing down of walls.