by Amber DeAnn
I pull open the new box to my survival,
tape the edges, look at the stuff on the shelf,
then glance back at the box.
Another box to pack, my heart sinks,
more mindless, repetitious back straining actions,
more mental numbing tasks
meant for the moving day.
How did my life become nothing but boxes
of memories, sentiments, or maybe future needs,
or knowledge, habits routines or whoever knows what.
It clouds my mentality like darkness snuffing out the light
Where’s my life— not in a pan for cooking
where’s my joy — not in caretaking stuff
where’s my brightness and delight in life— not in a box.
They snuffed it away— that big buy, buy society.
It’s always at work, drumming its message of buy and buy more
through my brain—unending, unnoticed, unstoppable—
silently guiding my actions.
It’s freedom I seek,
It’s space i crave,
i’m in throes of passion to be in a new way.
People, events, travel, art,
new ideas. Let them in. It’s time to create new lifestyles.
It’s the joy of joined hands, joined hearts, spontaneous dance and
free flowing creativity leading us to places that words cannot go.
It’s the contact with humanity,
it’s shared experience of marching through life with a buddy—.
that grasps my imagination and twinkles my heart.
I love stories of courage, triumph and defeat.
of miracles, of visions, of strange happenings in the Universe.
They re -charge us, pick us up when we’re down,
they open our clairvoyance, sparkle our imagination,
boost our resolve and tickle our life joy.
It’s the heart opening we need,
It’s the courage to touch the Divine through a poem
it’s seeking a second of love from the Universe.
When the release of the burden of Earth slips away—
ah, now the soul gets to breathe.