The Worth of Iridescent Things

When I was twelve

I made a time capsule of me for me.

And I filled it with my hopes and dreams

And fears and aches and wants and needs.

And I sealed it in a silver case,

And jotted down an open date.

And I put it on a shelf.

For twelve long years I forgot about it.

Twelve years of growth, and change, and living.

And I became a bigger being.

With bigger hopes. And bigger needing.

And then one day, I read the label. And saw that it was time.

I knew that I would laugh and cry. And remember who I used to be.

I was going to read and smile, and shake my head at naivety.

Who was that person? Were they still me?

And I ripped apart the silver case, and dumped it on my bed.

But there was no letter. And there was no message.

There was no heart felt, tear stained passage.

There was only a pathetic mound,

Of random items I had found

That were all some kind of iridescent.

And when I say pathetic…

Why would I save myself beetle wings?

Used stickers? Tinsel? All these things

Were garbage! Worthless! Pointless trash.

And my older, wiser self couldn’t believe my rash

Childhood mind.

What words are right? Shock? Despair?

Twelve years that envelope sat there,

And I’d believed it held profound

And deep and special hope filled sounds

From twelve year old me.

So innocent. So shallow.

—

It’s been eight years more now, but only just,

Since I threw away those crumbs of dust

And junk that meant so much to me at twelve.

But yet again I’ve grown, and now I’m far more

Disappointed with me at twenty four.

The message which I totally missed,

The magic, wonder, and the bliss

That I had felt at twelve years old were lost on me.

I’d forgotten who I used to be.

I forgot the worth of iridescent things.

Things that shimmer, and scintillate, and glow.

That ripple with hues. That dance. That know

More than to be just one way.

They’d been the perfect way for me to say,

“I am iridescent too.”

And that’s who I am. And whom I’ll always be. At twelve, twenty four, yesterday, and ninety three.