The Box

Consider that the universe we see is an illusion, and we are, in fact, in a notional box with a transparent top on which the stars and moving planets wheel in concert, and on whose sides are revealed the images of the world around us. Inside this notional box we are surrounded by family, friends and work, light, dark and weather, as well as the illusion of the passage of time. The purpose of the experiment is not readily apparent to us, nor is the nature of the experimenter, though the answer to both may only begin to be understood with the realization by us that life is an experiment. We can call the experimenter God if we choose, as many have. This is not a new notion, but has occurred to many over the aeons the experiment appears to us to have been underway, and is predicated on the belief that there is and must be a Creator God. I am inclined not to dismiss the idea that we are an experiment because it seems to me to be just as valid an idea as that an infinite reality consisting of an infinite set of different realities exists outside a known set of rules.

The stars and planets whirl apace
Inside the box that seems like space
While on its sides the box reveals
Illusions while the box conceals
The emptiness that is outside
That the experiment must hide
infinity is just a box
Infinity illusion mocks
What seems to us infinite years
Inside a box of finite tears
Is but a blink of God’s right eye
For time lives not, nor can it die
Nor measured, for it has no mass
So by illusion time doth pass
As in the box we simply wait
Elusive and illusive fate