Prompt: “There is no box too big or strong He can’t destruct and make into a dance floor.”
I’ve put limits on you, O God,
Placed you in the confines of my mind.
The brick walls I mortared around you
are flimsy paper in your grasp.
I sense you picking at the packing tape of my pretty little box,
slowly loosening its grip.
It comes apart,
piece by piece,
and falls to the floor,
on which we dance…