The Magic Box Poem by Qulsoum Zaidi

I will put in the box

shadows gently shifting in the depths of an enchanted
emerald forest,
silent echoes of memories that tread softly through
your mind,
dazzling dreams that weave in and out of sleep.

I will put in the box

stars smiling in the night sky,
russet autumn leaves falling softly to the ground,
water caressing like a rippling whisper.

I will put in the box

lambs contentedly playing in spring days,
the last silver laugh of a much loved aunt,
the first flight of a duckling.

I will put in the box

a snow leopard creeping in the dense velvet darkness,
dolphins gliding in the icy blue water,
nightingales singing in the golden sunset.

My box is fashioned from diamonds, clouds and mist,
with crystals on the lid and fantasies in the corners.
Its hinges are sapphires that never break.

I ski in my box,
on the slopes of the steepest mountains,
then skid to a halt,
and trudge excitedly back through the snow to start
all over again.