Everyone has their little box,
everyone has their story
posted on a placard
outside their confinement

(This is the long-tailed macaque
who comes from forests in Sumatra,
this is the gila monster,
king of the Arizona desert)

Upon the walls are painted
scenes to make our diorama,
illusions of our native habitat,
jungle depths in two dimensions

If we sit sad in our little box,
it’s not because the picture is inaccurate,
if we scratch away the paint,
it’s not wonton destruction of our paradise

Eventually we are forced inward
to grasp the Mind-power
that has the key to see us home,
sees us clear beyond the dream
dissolves the box, and finds us free.

©Wendy Mulhern
June 4, 2016