Home Building and Safe Keeping / Purpose and Destiny

I build my days with little pieces...
waking, eating something, opening and closing a door.
Hold things together with bits of something
and bits of nothing
guard it with the dark tents of sleep.
After so many years I realized
there were many rooms but no house.

Possession: What if God gave you something precious
and you hid it in a locked box in the darkest room:
Did he really mean that you should only keep it safe?

So I wrapped my existence in plastic, like a white sofa,
to guard from spills and dust and the wear and tear of me.
You came over and sat down.
You asked, "What are you saving this for?"