Closed Doors: What’s behind the door? Why is it closed?
Submission A:
A Metaphor
The door
Always a metaphor
Open or closed, or swinging. . .
Closed these days, but not locked
Open it, if you feel the moment is right.
But enter at your own risk.
Sometime the inside is bright,
often it’s dim,
sometimes,
Dark.
Somehow, thankfully,
the light always seems to return.
Who or what turns it on
I never know.
A spark from somewhere
Igniting
lighting
ebbing and flowing
such is life.
Maybe a candle – one wick or two – or more?
Together,
or at both ends?
My heart prefers the former,
but my soul leans toward the latter.
Either way darkness always comes.
I could prop the door open,
But that would just invite the wildness in.
I love the wild in me,
But I’m too old not to be tamed by now.
Best to close it.
Maybe lock it.
Give the keys to those I love,
to come, and go.
Bringing the light,
to light my soul.
So I don’t fumble,
in the dark
Alone.
Submission B:
LogoMedicus 