Get Your Premium Membership

They Keep Their God In a Box

After an occasion of travel I have reached this new found world. My report however is not an encouraging one. The life forms here are very primitive. They house their spirits in a canister, each spirit container holds one spirit but for a select few, which holds a canister within a canister with a young spirit within it. They keep their god in a box. It shines on their faces most of the evening, flashing bright images at them. It gives them direction on how to be,what to think, where they can take their canisters, and what to do when they get there. They receive this information daily from their god in a box. They do not move with their star, to stay in the light but when the shadow of their one moon falls they lay their container prone until their star breaks over the crest of this backward planet. They keep their containers well groomed and covered at all times with many different colors of many different materials. Their god in a box tells them or shows them with what to cover their canisters. They all live in fear of losing their canister. They fear death; they do not understand how free they will be without their containers, and their god in a box.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2008




Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.

Please Login to post a comment

A comment has not been posted for this poem. Encourage a poet by being the first to comment.


Book: Shattered Sighs