Closed Doors
There it is
The Door.
You know the one
You pass it every single day
This time, though
You stop and look
Just briefly
Then hurry on your way
And yet you start to wonder
What it is behind it
Every day you inch closer
And every day you run away
You glance out through the window
Run you fingers on the wood
Your hand hovers on the doorknob…
But suddenly it looms large!
Humongous!
And again, you scurry off.
Distantly you watch
People go in and they go out
You think
If you go in, would you stay?
You listen
Is it worth it?
You imagine
You move closer
The Door draws you in and beckons you near
Or rather, the thing behind the Door
You reach out a finger
Lightly trail the grain of wood…
The Door feels taller here
More foreboding
The Shadows loom threateningly
Your hand moves to the Doorknob
The Shadows grow darker
They swell towards you
Hesitation.
Fear.
But in one simple act
You turn the doorknob
And push
The Door swings open
And you step outside