The Door
There came a knocking
At the door
Which stirred me
On the floor
Circled up
In foetal
Comfortable
In my position
Upon the
Cold hard floor
Sitting
I brought my knees up
To rest my chin upon
And wrapped
My arms
Round them
Looking
At the door
Was it a dream?
That I heard the knocking
Thinking furiously
About the wanderings
Of a sleeping mind
Against the familiar
Cold hard floor
I couldn’t recall
Any knocking
In the wonderings
Upon the floor
I started rocking
Rocking
In my position
On the floor
Staring
Looking
For more the knocking
Upon the wooden door
If it didn’t
Have birth
In the psyche
Of my mind
Then it must mean
That the knocking
Is life
Of its own
On the other side
The door
Just the thought
Made fear grip me
Sending chills
Down my spine
To spread out
Like lighting fingers
Across my world
The cold
Hard floor
I gave thought
To my reaction
And wondered new
Reaching out
To settle
That thumping heart
That fear
Had brushed against
And stopped
A rocking
Upon my floor
Looking
Searching
For meaning
Upon the wooden door
Knock
Knock
Knock
Fear
It rushed again
Sending me a scurrying
To the wall
Away from that door
Holding it
To stop
My world falling
As best I could
While I crouched
Against floor and wall
Wishing them both
To box me in
Protect me
From the knocking
At the door
But my world
It didn’t change
It remained
The same
Except the thought
That life
Was knocking
The other side
The door
It was oddly
Exciting
As it was terrifying
The knocking
At the door
It sent me searching
Again
Do I have it in me?
Those aspect’s
That I will call upon
To get me
Off the floor
To creep
To the door
Do I have the courage?
To open it
For a new me
A new life
On the other side
The door
Copyright © Dominic Middleton | Year Posted 2020
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