The gift box

A poem

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The gift box

Photo by Christopher Bill on Unsplash

There is nothing
fancy about it.

A box unadorned, 
a box without lining,
stiff cardboard 
with a dull hue,
almost square,
snug lid that opens
with expressed release,
and sized to hold 
what seemed to be
the perfect gift
set aside,	
a simple pattern 
inviting a peering
deep into cryptic
speaking on the 
inside walls, 
and the space between 
spoke all that was never said,
offering a no-word
to go with you
into your next place.

It was a gift itself.
This box you hold
of greatest value, 
perched now
on the corner
of where you live
your life.

Sometimes
you lift the lid 
with hope
and the space inside
is silent.
But it seems 
those silent days
you mindlessly 
catch your palm
on a sharp corner

a clear feeling.

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Thank you for being here! I’d love to hear what strikes you, speaks to you, or stirs in you while you read this piece. I look forward to whatever dialogue happens here, and within a week I will be following up with a Reflection post on how this poem emerged into being and the themes I wrote into it.

Brian

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