Just a Jar

The girl was born curious.

She loved the world

And wished to understand everything.

From the time she could walk

She tried to discover.

She would study the way

Lightening bus lit up the sky.

The way clouds 

Morphed into new shapes

All by themselves.

She wanted to know why.

Everything was a question,

Waiting to be answered.

Then came the day answers

Were offered to her.

A mysterious man, of no origin,

Seeming to have appeared from the darkest

Parts of her own mind,

Revealed himself to her.

He offered her everything.

But at a cost.

A jar was bequeathed to the girl.

A jar of many wonders.

Outside, the jar was plain—

Burnt orange and dusty,

Inside was a whirlwind of fizzing life.

To open it would be to know all.

To open it would be the end-all.

Despite what is said of her,

She was not foolish.

The girl studied the unadorned jar,

Weighing the cost of knowledge.

She was beyond tempted

To gain a taste of understanding.

As if it would grant her a consciousness,

Begging to be freed—

An inner self the girl was eager to meet.

Finally,

Slowly,

She lifted the lid of the jar—

Just a crack.

Pure light eruped from the jar

And filled her veins.

Her thoughts so full

It felt as if she were thinking nothing.

And then, the lights left her for

The more intriguing world,

Leaving her again in darkness,

With only a plain, ordinary, empty jar.