Pandora and her Box

About creativity and the odd road down which one might travel to court it, enable it, allow it free reign.

Paul, you were talking about Pandora’s box recently and someone else was talking about a box recently as well (Jonathan?). Clearly, we all it on our minds.

              Pandora and her Box

                  I may ask myself,
              in much the same way
       one addresses Pandora’s box,
        “Is there anything in there?”
        The box, mute for a moment,
        says, “Are you talking to me?
            Don’t you have anything
                      better to do?”

                         It is true-
                   there are dishes
               and some dust to be
                 moved about and 
               there is the goldfish,
              all of them a tad dull,
      nothing compared to Pandora
                     and her box.
                    I tap her sides,
                      lift an edge,
              peer into her keyhole
         but only rare days a month
                does she tap back.

Those are exciting moments indeed,
            when the game is afoot.
           Nobody knows the rules
                  Do we need feet?
               But if we are patient
                 or utterly forgiving
         of monumental impatience,
       things can get pretty sparkly.
     And so, with the complete trust
                 of the blindfolded
                  on a bumper car,
                   the sweet smell
             of metabolized alcohol
              wafting all about you,
               you stay your sanity
      for an unspecified interregnum.

               These are her terms.
        Trust don’t begin to cover it.
       Belief and faith make a start.
            Hope sees me through.