The Box

Sometimes, I feel as if I am in a box. The box keeps me in. At times it expands, allowing me room to stretch and not feel hemmed in. The box has holes which are my windows to the outside. I see the abundant green foliage and smell the wet grass and the rain when those windows when those windows open wide when my box grows tall and large.I see the birds and hear their songs. Life is still sweet. I sigh with contentment. At times it closes in and I find it hard to breathe. I push against its top and sides but they will not move. I despair. I stop pushing. I take a deep breath and pray and think. My body is trapped but my soul can fly.