Which Door To Open
The corridors of life are rarely straight:
Not only do they bend and twist and veer,
We find the way ahead becomes unclear,
Soon blocked by doors -- each door, a different fate.
We’d like to take our time, to contemplate,
But time will press, and each will urge, “Come here,
I lead to bliss. Take me, and have no fear!”
How can we know which course to navigate?
Still in the end we’re forced to make a choice,
Interring almost-futures in the past,
And pick one door to open, if we dare.
We hope the door we choose makes us rejoice,
But this is a decision which will last:
Whatever ends it leads to, we must bear.
December 23, 2019
"Open Me First" Italian Sonnet Contest
Copyright © J P Marmaro | Year Posted 2019
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