The Box

It arrived, it was a solemn occasion,

People were hesitant, I did not know

Why

I tried to look in, but I was too small

And it was too tall

A narrow box, I was curious, what

Was in it?

I tried to lift the lid, but my fingers

Could not reach

With each attempt I became more

Intent to see what this box meant

As time went by I became older, going

Back to see if perhaps I could open it

Now

I returned to the box when life was violent

And I was seeking solace

Visiting a garden of rest, as they

Lowered a box in the earth, there were

Similarities as the one I had seen as

A child

Then I knew it was for those who had

Ceased

That could be me!

And then one day I fell asleep and was

Planted in the box reserved for me

Waiting to become broken and come

To new life…

No earthly box can contain my soul, for

When it is time for me to rise, He cries,

Pulling me through the earth’s crust,

I am thrust out of the box to receive the

Heavenly prize, one the coffers of this

Earth cannot provide!

Poem from the book

“Weeping Child To Forgiving Child”

Copyright (2015)

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