The White Door
Long ago, in a dream of mine,
a recurring vision,
I beheld a white door.
An elaborate polished portal
surrounded by void.
My beautiful door,
dividing nowhere from nowhere
was a curious object
in the middle of the void.
It was quite strange.
Day after day I thought about
the white door in my dream,
and every night it was there again
to confuse me once more.
Long ago, I gave up on the dream,
the unanswered riddle,
and stopped thinking about it.
When I saw the door again
I closed my mind.
I know the meaning now,
of my lost dream,
that abstract puzzle.
For my dreams are empty
without the white door.
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