It's Comfortable, But it's Still a Prison

 

city of iron

washed in dogwood bloom

gently resurrected  

 
These lines were written by Steven, a friend whose body is imprisoned but whose mind is trying to break free.

Actually, we're all imprisoned. Sometimes the walls and locked door are obvious; other times, we don't even notice they're there.

But as long as we are bound by our emotions, we’re imprisoned. The prison may be attractive. It may seem spacious, and it may contain everything we wish for. We may never even know we're imprisoned. And the more enjoyable our imprisonment, the more we cling to it and the less we feel the need to change.

But until we free ourselves of greed and anger, of egocentrism and  self-benefit, we will not be truly free. We will be in our own city of iron, impure, and without resurrection.