Container

Posted on by Reena Saxena

My box is made of glass
bereft of oxygen at times
I see the world outside
dream of where I could have been
then clean and maintain
the space I live in
in a stupor
-anger, regret, rebellion
brews inside
making it hot
rather than cosy

I find slits near the lid
It’s not airtight after all
My spirit can still meet the world
and let them see
what I want to be
I watch myself
in interesting shapes
and decide
one of those could be real

I will fly away someday
the ignorant will see this box
as a remnant or memory
of me
not knowing I never belonged
the box could never hold me
minds and spirits
are always free

Poetics – A Box of Poems

29 thoughts on “Container”

  1. Pingback: Pandora, or: All the right boxes – The Skeptic's Kaddish 🇮🇱

  5. Brilliant take on the “box” — So imaginatively expressed, so realistically understood, and finally full of unimpeded hope. Loved it, Reena. Such boxes are meant to be escaped.

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  8. I love your approach to the prompt Reena, and the idea of seeing the world from inside the box and dreaming of where you could have been.  I like the contrast between it being hot instead of cosy and the sits allowing your spirit to meet the world. There is hope in the final stanza.

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