Fifty-two pick up

Well more like 45. The silverware tray has flipped over and 45 pieces of flatware are losing to gravity. Some have hit the ground and are still, others taking their first bounce and some are still in free fall. The noise, the noise, it shatters the moment and stops time.

Why did it flip? Something of an earthquake. An invisible hand. The cup of life was taken away and won’t be back. Or maybe the tray cracked and gave way under the weight of the pieces as they stacked up over the years. What a mess to pick up. Where to start?

I wish the tray hadn’t flipped, was back to normal – the way it was before. When the tray could hold plenty and lend the pieces needed to replenish and nourish and they were replaced clean and fresh, ready to be lent again. Before the flip, before the overwhelming noise.

But the pieces, still and falling, stop time. Through the noise, a chance to find the right mix of pieces allowing the tray to provide balanced sustenance. Too many knives cutting away, not enough spoons to cup the juice of life or forks to grab hold of it. What pieces have gone missing over the years, what pieces have the years have shown a need for?

When the free fall stops, I will put the pieces back in the tray, the drawer will fit back into the larger cabinet and the tray will be normal. Not the normal I knew but rather the new normal. With the mix of pieces that perpetuate healthy, balanced sustenance. Those pieces that speak to the starved parts and those overindulged. Time will resume, the noise will stop. And the new normal will satiate. A new cup of life will be created to replace the one given.

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