My Box

My box is made of flesh and blood

wrapped around a framework of bones

tied together with muscle and ligaments

once young and strong // now aging and weak.

It is a box that is ever changing

as it moves toward the culmination of life

diminishing // like a raisin in the sun

*

My box contains a soul // a spirit // a breath of life

Totally separate from the shell of flesh on bones…

A medium beyond the physical //yet tied together

in a codependency of light and darkness

where Light and darkness seem to live side by side

often exchanging places as events in our lives take place

in an ongoing struggle for dominance.

*

My box has served me well through the years

A medium of love and caring for others in my life

Bruised and battered at times // yet resilient and strong

feeling the power of Light // finding my way through the dark.

As my soul struggles to be set free, my aging shell hangs on

My mind knows this box will decay in time

while my spirit will return to its creator // unencumbered

Kim at d’Verse introduced us to Welsh poet, Gillian Clark, and her poem, My Box here. She asked us to write a similar poem about our own personal box, either real or metaphorical. I decided to write about my physical self as my box.

Responding to Karla Hales last post about the eclipse, I came up with the thought about light and darkness residing together in our being, so I included that in my poem.

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