Before
us is an open door,
a door
we cannot close,
not
individually,
not
collectively,
an
open door that remains
open
because it must,
to
what it is designed to do.
Through
the door comes
the
whirlwind,
the
gathering storm,
raging
as it is meant to do.
The
door is open;
the
building stands.
It
stands.
Photograph by Jana Illnerova via Public
Domain Pictures. Used with permission.
1 comment:
I always go and read the scripture to read along with your poem.
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