James Moore Poet Narrative

Hallway of Dreams

When you go down the hallway of dreams,
Doors opening to the right and left,
There is no choice
Until you decide there is.
So many doors, so many choices,
Each opening into a different world,
Spanning time and places,
From childhood to old age
As well as before and after.

In my hallway lots of doors open into school rooms
And lots into old homes 
And old jobs, old wives and young children,
Places never visited, and others apparently
Never left.

I’m sure there are other doors 
That lead to dinosaurs, and aliens, 
As well as fairy folk and gnomes,
And life forms I have not yet imagined.

It seems to me this hallway stretches on forever
Without a bend or curve
The rooms behind the doors
Providing enough twists and turns.

But this is all just a guess
As the hall remains unlit in my unconscious.
And yet still I know exactly what it looks like
And where all the doors lead...

(10/2/25)

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