THE BOTTLE

A day will come

when some dormant part of yourself

awakens, is called forth

like a genie from a bottle,

because something or someone

touches you so deeply 
that that part can no longer 
remain contained.

Once released

no amount of coaxing

can get the wisp you just were

back into the bottle.

It is in the world now

and you see it

as something

familiar, unrecognizable

and formidable.

And then you wonder:

How did it ever happen

that such a potent part

was bottled up in the first place,

kept prisoner for so long

and inside something so small?

And then you realize:

that the idea of containment

is itself a small thing, a word, a vessel

that you either fill with meaning or not.

There’s the rub.

And once you get that then you know

there is no limit to the number

of wishes you can make.