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Doors

"There are things known and things unknown and between are the doors." _Jim Morrison __________________ and in my dream I walk the corridors of my mind corridors with old creaking floors deep in the sanctum of my soul echoes stir I find myself in a hall of doors, doors and doors bright red doors and green emerald doors with polished knobs blue, deeply and darkly lovely varnished doors and a heavy ornate church door ajar, beckoning me with hymns drifting one hundred year old doors with brass chimes portals to long, long ago wide barn doors in antique grey with wide thresholds doors with chipped white paint rounded doors, wooden doors, some to push, some to pull through a long forgotten door the wreckage of my life closed doors, swinging doors, locked doors with a sign Do Not Open, doors with steps, doors with brass keys dangling and doors with chimes (press here for access, my dear) then, I see two doors side by side a simple cedar door and a golden door. I hesitate and then, I turn the knob of the golden door and see a Nirvana land is beyond but I close it with a slam then, I open the simple cedar door which takes me back to the here and now and I breathe a sigh of relief for this is exactly where I need to be ________________________________ March 24, 2017 Poetry/Free Verse/Doors Copyright Protected, ID 03-1374-877-24 All Rights Reserved, 2017, Constance La France Submitted into the Standard contest, Doors (old/new) sponsor, Anthony Biaanco, Judged 07/29/2021 Fourth Place

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