Wednesday, 10 February 2016

The People of the Boxes

The People of the Boxes



The People of the Boxes
By Dawud Wharnsby

There were once some people
Who all saw their lives like empty boxes
They looked around the world
Collecting up the things they liked.

They filled their lives and boxes
With the goodies that they gathered
And they all felt in control
Content and they all felt alright.

They climbed inside their boxes
They settled with their trinkets.
They neither looked nor learned much more
And closed their lids up tight.

Once they fastened up their boxes
They smiled there inside
And they all thought in their darkness
That the world was clear and bright.

But the world is not a box
There's no lid no doors
No cardboard flaps or locks
And everything in nature
From the clouds to the rocks
Is a piece of the puzzle of the purpose of man
It's a piece of the peace of Islam.

Along came a wandering wiseman
Whispering such words of truth
He stumbled on these boxes
So separate side by side
He knocked upon the first one saying
Please come out and feel the day
An answer came from deep within
You're not of us please go away

He approached the second box
And tapped twice on the lid saying
Peace to you inside
Shall I show you a new way
Someone peaked out from a crack and said
You may just have a point
But it's so comfy in my box
In my box here I will stay

But the world is not a box
There is no lid, no doors
No cardboard flaps of locks
And everything in nature
From the clouds to the rocks
Is the piece of the puzzle of the purpose of man
Is the piece of the peace of Islam

He stood before the final box
A hiding face peaked out to him
And much to his surprise
He said I recognise those eyes
I see you and you see me
Why not come out and be free
Faith and flowers wilt and die
If they are hidden from the sky.

Cause the world is not a box
There is no lid, no doors
No cardboard flaps of locks
And everything in nature
From the clouds to the rocks
Is the piece of the puzzle of the purpose of man
Is the piece of the peace of Islam

Now the centuries lie between
All the prophets and you and I
Civilisations are born and die
Each and everyday
We see good and bad and happy, sad
And mad mistakes we wish we hadn't made
In our attempt to try and live up to their ways

But if we hide ourselves away
Afraid to grow and learn
We might wake up in the flames
Of the ignorance that burns
And we'll never be much more
Than only casualties of war

In a struggle we can't win
If we have no faith to begin
We've got to tip the lid
And let some sunlight in

Cause the world is not a box
There is no lid, no doors
No cardboard flaps of locks
And everything in nature
From the clouds to the rocks
Is the piece of the puzzle of the purpose of man
Is the piece of the peace of Islam.


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