The Door of Uncertainty
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“Let`s greet everybody with love,
We know not when and in what shape
We may meet the Almighty Lord.”-By Author
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The Door of Uncertainty
Midnight hours have just chimed on my wall clock
Woeful wild winds are whirling on roof tops
The sky shrouded with seams of darkish frocks
Does not cease to cascade torrential drops;
Often times roaring thunders dull my ears
Lightning flashes dazzle the window panes
Spreading splashes of simmering dark fears
Down the frail aisle of my senile veins.
Slashed with sharp stinging pains I lie abed
In the languid loneliness of my room
With my life tacitly tied to a thread
Awaiting to be lured by ghosts of doom;
Soon I sense hearing three knocks at the door,
Who can this be at this untimely time!
I wonder, such sounds never heard before,
These could, I deem, just be some distant chimes.
The knocks on the door reach my ears once more,
Hardly I can move with back sore with pain,
Yet pulling up my spirit to the core
I try to reach for the door with much strain.
Leaning against walls of the corridor
I trudge to the door of the living room
Where is lighted a little lamp of yore
That lightly tampers darkness of the gloom.
Is anyone at the door, I murmur,
One, twice, thrice I enquire, but in vain,
No reply, but the winds` woeful whispers
On the gutters and the neighbouring plains.
Wild waves of uncertainty gnaw my mind,
Can it be a thief, come to steal my worth
Can it be Hades` herald, I need to find
As bells can knell soon for me to quit earth.
With a sigh of fear, I unlock the door
But can notice no soul on the terrace,
Soon a suffering sparrow greets the floor
From the door head seeking care and solace.
Despite my frail health I admit the bird
Through the failing door of uncertainty
Dispense care until it can join its herd
Extend to it my humble courtesy.
Oft and anon, the bird roosts on the door
To sing its sweetish song of gratitude,
The splash of human gesture to adore
And bestow on me its beatitude.
The door of wavering uncertainty
Has proved for me to be the gate of bliss
That with steadfast, unswerving certainty
Just for a day I shall not like to miss.
Copyright © Krishnanand Guptar | Year Posted 2025
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