The Opportunity

I heard the knock on the door but I chose not to answer. I heard the whisper in my ear but I chose not to listen. I saw the light on the horizon but I turned off the switch. I saw the window swing open, but I chose to close it again. How shortsighted I was then. How stoic in the safety of familiarity. Opportunities come knocking so softly we can hardly hear them. They whisper like soft breezes and merely ruffle a hair. They shine a tiny glimmer of hope which needs nurturing like a beacon. Take the gift, unwrap it. Marvel at the contents, and take it on board the boat of opportunity - quickly - blink, and it will be gone.