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Father door.

You are like the scarred
Door to a warm home.
Strong and firm
Holding in the warm and out the cold.
Your walk is solid and straight.
You are always steady of gate.
Your voice like sodden wood sounding dully.
Beaten together softly to comfort a sleepless child.
A door that for all possibilities
You do open. Closing to keep out the hurt.
Solid and strong against the night.

But I am like the lumber, rough hewn for a new door.
Waiting to become, but not yet formed.

please be honest with me...?

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Comments


  • robynsapoet
    December 30, 2008
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    deep

    i did not understand it but it seems deep and dark slitly saity