Doors open
to the gusts of
microcosms within.
Each, singular...
and connected.
Wended thresholds
are trade winds
in your life excursions,
forever course-shifted
into the ricochet
of the options within.
Doors close,
tumbling you into the
impelling gravity
of the itineraries,
or slamming you without.
Once closed,
barred doors
are earstwhile moments,
time vistas, and
personal unfurlings
not opportuned
in the same way again.
Every door opened
and traversed,
is another closed.
Forever lingered,
opportunity lost.
A contest entry
- Doors by CarCrashHumor.
1200 points, ended June 1, 2008, 32 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
-
my favorite part was that last stanza "Every door opened
and traversed,
is another closed.
Forever lingered,
opportunity lost."
it kinda puts a spin on the saying "when a door is closed, God opens a window"
thank you for taking the time to enter the contest!
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