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in steps of three we take
down pebbled thoughts on healthy knees,
the stroll around the shell within
or one of the many of these
can let us see the glowing moth,
the sleeping owl,
the green-barked tree,
or chance that opening through for the drowning salmon,
the messy spider,
mayhaps the walking snake that flees?
we wouldn’t open the box that we shaped,
white knuckled fingers around it tightly
wraps hidden a festered trinket, a half-burnt candle,
and the occasional runaway glee.
but our nature pries with habitual duty
and within sometimes – contents are seen,
and as tiny eternity escapes through the infinitesimal slips (release!)
are we lost to the outer void
or are we finally free?

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