The velvet box is to put,

Precious things inside.

Comfortable and aware,

That all is well.

Outside, the world patiently,

Goes about its business.  It,

Neither craves your return,

Nor rejoices in your absence,

But will gladly make space,

For you when ready.

All illusions, cruel,

Or other wise are,

Created within.

The velvet box cannot

Shield you from them,

Can only amplify them,

If you bring them inside.

Therefore, go outside,

Hands and face tingling,

And leave this thinking by the door.

Embrace old friends,

And look about,

With childish wonder.


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