There is a perpetual war within…

A war between

Hopes and circumstances

Between confinement

And the beckoning of freedom

Between the lower

And the higher

Between what is

And what could be.

I saunter into the kitchen

Look at all the jars lined up

Standing as if under a command.

Inanimate, still ready to serve

Like soldiers in a rank

Also in a war?

Contained, silent, closed…

Human civility demands

That we fight our battles in silence.