KODA

If I were to make a kit for the rest of my life
In a day
Something for every moment, through each breath
Something that would protect me from losing myself
To guide me through moments of fear, sadness, and ecstacy

I wonder what I would put inside this package
Simple things perhaps, which at moments I know I’ll need
Like bandaids, rubber bands, and papers and pencils
A note with some writing on it, saying “don’t take yourself too seriously”

Colors, emotions, and nuances might fade with time
So I will have to pack them up into words, drawings, and music
Music that reminds me what passion feels like

I wonder what my kit would look like
It could be a metal box with a lid
Or a piece of paper
A brown paper bag, or an investor’s suitcase
Something to hold all my wildest dreams, and most solemn plans
To take anywhere and everywhere

Or maybe
It would be a tiny seed
A great truth, a burning flame
That when planted will grow and expand and change shapes
As I do