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“Think Outside the Box.”

This axiom is an accusation

for all who are lost in apathy and acedia.

When all I see is wall, wall, ceiling, floor, wall and wall…

How can I escape? How can I get out?

While it’s intended as a call to creativity,

it can come across as an echo of your inability.

Inability to dream, to think, to reason, to move forward, onward.

Symptoms: Lethargy, Immobility– Diagnosis: Coward.

At least that’s what it seems to a mind in chains,

enchained by its own powerful delusions.

Facts and delusions march on by in a masquerade parade,

and with my sketchy eyesight, I can’t tell one from the other.

At times the box is calm and serene, a world unto itself.

At times it is severe, piercing, searing pain, a hell unto itself.

Think Outside the Box?  If only. If only it was that simple.

Stockholm Syndrome or a love affair, it’s hard to tell…

I am the Box. The Box is me. This mind, this skin, this body.

How can I think beyond this space? Beyond this frame, this faulty frame?

I can call to mind Promises & Remembrances & Songs & Recitals,

but they simply join the parade and push me up against the wall.

Maybe if I scratch and scratch and tear and tear and tear up this wall,

I can break free from this prison called Myself.

But this Box is also a Temple (and yes, I know that interpretation might be faulty).

And within this Temple, somewhere within this Box

There is a light.

No, not the parade spectacle,

nor the flashing party bulbs–

But a light. A light.  A light that transforms this box into so much more.

A Temple.

A Tabernacle.

An Upper Room.

A Mansion.

Not to say the Box is the End All of the Heavenlies,

but perhaps an Antechamber, a Foyer, a Narthex.

There are still four walls, a ceiling and a floor.

And the time will come to “Think Outside the Box” and more.

But for now, I must search for that light…

It’s been too long.