no room to breathe or grow.
Looking for doorways or windows showing the
next road or path to take.
Restless,
searching for expansion,
not mere distraction,
but deep rich soil to plow.
And the box?
What is it made of ?
Steel?
Cardboard?
Tissue paper?
My own thoughts of limitation and political correctness?
This last seems hard as steel,
thick as concrete till I reach out ~
my hand pushes through a noisy, frightening hologram of
should's and shouldn’ts
do’s and don’ts
destroying the box completely
leaving me feeling lost and alone
no sign posts to direct or barriers to caution.
Is this a do or don’t issue?
Do I rely on my intuition for learning and practice,
stepping forward to gather gems along the way?
“Intuition will tell the thinking mind where to look next.”
~ Jonas Salk
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