The Door

 

The door moves in the breeze –
gently swinging back and forth
not quite sure if it wishes
to completely close,
locking out intruders
from the harbor of the home . . .

. . . or swing wide, allowing
all interested parties
permission to enter the sacred
hollows of an empty vestibule.
To “pillage and plunder”
or bow in reverence
to the deities inside.

Perhaps a gatekeeper
would be the answer.
He alone holding that
secret password which when
voiced grants passage, secret words
or gestures symbolizing mutual
understanding an respect,
a silent promise no to violate
the treasures that lie within.

Yes, a gatekeeper seems
the best solution,
for we all know don’t we
doors have no minds,
they operate by outside stimulus,
gentle hands or barking orders.
The door, holding so much power,
fails to see its own authority,
allowing others to govern
its destiny
.

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