Life in a box

The crisp shapes from the bright passing light from above now turns to gloomy dark shadows on the inner walls of the box. I dare not lift my head above the rim to look at the warm fading light.

The sounds from outside this box sounds are muffled as they spill in from above and reverberate off the walls. The frightful screams and painful howling pass over leaving me untouched by fear.

Boxes are fashioned by compassionate heavenly beings in such a fine way to provide protection from the suffering of the world and ourselves.

Who would dare to want to climb above its rim?

What insights could be gained?

Be grateful for your box, and whatever you do, do not complain.