Dance More, Less Doors

Some things are not meant for me Although I want them And wait and weep (As though tears make waiting easier) Some doors are closed forever And some for just now But good luck trying to tell the difference (And isn’t now just a brief moment in forever?) I could stand here knocking all day There may even be a voice that asks what I want I may even be able to answer back in the hushed tones of hope (And isn’t hope the sword we would all die on in the end?) Better to turn from this place This closed door This frustration And run as far away as anguish will allow I can find a new door And new voices And new dreams and a new life (But everything new becomes old again in time) And then somewhere down this road I will be turning from another door Another frustration, another life (They will all bleed together and pool at my feet) I will reach down in to the crimson pool of my bleeding hopes and dreams And mark each door from which I turned as holy A room in which I wanted to live, but was denied (Who knows what waited for me there) I will run down rivers and steams Up mountains and hills To the edge of the ocean, the end of the world (Would that be far enough, do you think) Will I ever find my door The one that opens when I simply step near it The one on which I don’t even have to knock (I am so tired of the incessant knocking and wishing) Or when I reach the end of all things Will I find that the doors were not the point That it never mattered if they opened or closed (Maybe I should have danced more…)