Empty boxes bring sadness and joy
A paradox of regret and opportunity
Pictures replace people once loved
Now departed to seek new memories
A once intact family divided by empty boxes
A reminder of the fragility of relationships
Cardboard houses, once a vibrant home
Reduced to boxes that carry our dreams
To other places beyond imagination
Recycled lives begin the process of living again
In empty places devoid of emotion
Silence overwhelms and envelops our being
Most begin their journey in a place like Kansas
Tired of repetitive and predictable lifestyles
Now transported over yellow brick roads
With other brave souls who seek new meaning
And dream of far away places and new relationships
That excites and brings hope to frozen masses
Our final journey takes us in an empty box
Surrounded by grieving family and friends
No pictures accompany us this time
We go alone as we have in the past
This time with a community of believers and angels
To our final destination where there are no empty boxes
A deep and interesting concept of life containers. Of course, they are empty at times, and when filled, we rejoice. Too, as your well done words say so well, our dreams and hopes are placed in a box of some kind, to be dealt with - later, perhaps. Like your word flow. - Bill
Such a sad piece this is...but if one is lying in the box, the box would not have been empty. The box would have been filled with life's history of joy and sorrows, defeats and conquer. It was a life well-spent and well-loved.
It wasn't empty in my eyes. Just my 2 cents thought of the day.
The songs and art in this book are about our collective emergence after the pandemic and trauma of the last few years - comprised of 5 collections: World as Refuge, Where We Live, In Our Hands, Rhythms of Change and What We See & Sow.
This is my personal inspirational book of poetry. It contains many poems written for family, friends, and relevant life situations. Hopefully you will find some that will encourage and inpsire you in whatever arena you are found in your circle of l
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Such a sad piece this is...but if one is lying in the box, the box would not have been empty. The box would have been filled with life's history of joy and sorrows, defeats and conquer. It was a life well-spent and well-loved.
It wasn't empty in my eyes. Just my 2 cents thought of the day.
Sandie May Angel