Packing for the Future - Instructions

Packing for the Future - Instructions (by Lorna Crozier)
Take the thickest socks
Wherever you are going you'll have to walk
There may be water ~ there may be stones
There might be high places
You cannot go without the hope socks bring you
The way they hold you to the earth
At least one pair must be new, must be blue as you wish
Hand-knit by your mother in her sleep

Take a leather stachel, a velvet bag
And an old tin box - a salamander painted on the lid
This is to carry that small thing you cannot leave
Perhaps the key you've kept ~ though it doesn't fit any lock you know
The photograph that keeps you sane
A ball of string to lead you out though you can't walk back into that light
In your bag, leave room for sadness, leave room for another language
There may be doors nailed shut ~ there may be painted windows
There may be signs to warn you to be gone
Take the dream you've been having since you were a child
The one with the open fields and the wind sounding
Mistrust no one who offers you water from a well, a songbird's feather
Something that's been mended twice
Always travel lighter than the heart