Locked Doors

The Mag : Charleston Farmhouse Door

During his last years, Daniel decided

To speak about life to his only son.

All along the tide of life, he galloped,

Sometimes tall, sometimes meager,

In an infinite cycle of pain and smiles,

He always met doors that led him about,

It was about doors he wished to speak,

Doors that open onto obscure turfs.

His words never held the aura of youth,

Yet his eyes intended to portray zest,

He neatly wrote whatever occurred inside:

'Son, there are doors all around,

There are some in our home, and

More around you and inside too.

'Tis seldom you shall see them,

And rarely enough shall you find

Them open!

I may never help you to find 'em

But do search around, cause if

You don't it shall unite with the

Walls and you would never know

Its existence!

Grow bold you will, and surely

Open doors at will, but never hold

Pride, cause locked doors are

All around, and eventually you

Will meet with one. Have grace!

Accept that some doors are meant

To be barbed! And maybe then

You would find a way around

The walls, or even through them!

Indeed a saint once said, doors

Lead men to light, I never knew

What he meant then, but now

As I face a door half open as

I look up, I feel I always knew,

'Tis for this I let the paper taste

The dying ink!'

Indeed with those words Daniel opened

His last door, which presented Light!

It must also be said, he helped his son

To open his first door onto a fresh expanse,

That was filled with a different Light