Opening Doors

Doors close easily.

What is hard is to open

A door that is closed.

They say when one door closes,

Another opens.

But there is not always an automatic

Sensor.

Sometimes, we have to open the door ourselves.

But the uncertainty of what awaits us on the other side

Forces us to pause, at times step back,

Other times, run the hell away.

Sometimes, the door is sliding glass.

How grateful we are when we see what we get—

Yet sometimes, we forget that we have to slide the door open,

And we walk straight into the glass,

Ending up with a bump,

Losing our balance,

Wondering what happened- we had been so close,

What we wanted had been just within reach.

Other times, the door is revolving.

We walk through it,

But we end up right back where we started.

And yet other times, the door is opaque.

I opened such a door once,

And everything on the other side came crashing down.

So how do we find the courage to open a door?

We remember that if we do not reach out to turn the handle,

Push the button or slide the glass,

We will be forced to move backwards or remain stagnant,

And will deprive ourselves of the chance to move forward,

To grow, to live.  

Knowing Smile

I smile to myself,

Thinking.

Guessing.

Knowing.

I speculated,

I made excuses.

And,

When I grew tired,

Impatient,

I removed the veil

From my heart.

I ceased to ignore.

I embraced the truth.

I forgave,

I forgot.

Now,

I smile to myself,

I make you think.

I make you guess.

But,

Your eyes remain closed,

And my truth,

You will never know.

Le Fleuve

Jadis, elle tenait fort aux mots

Qui glissaient de ses lèvres à lui,

Qui offraient à elle

Tout ce qu’elle désirait,

Qu’elle croyait la vérité.

L’étincelle de ses yeux

Couvrait toute fausseté,

Permettant au fleuve de promesses

D’exciter une âme entravée

Par un naïf espoir.

Pourtant, la marée a changé—

Le fleuve, maintenant,

Débordait de larmes de vive déception.

L’espoir qui, autrefois, aurait rejailli

N’était que le prisonnier de l’expérience.

Writer's Block

I want to start –

I just don’t know where.

I ask for patience

And wait for the clouds

To clear and

Leave room in the sky

For stars.

Quickly, they multiply,

A constellation takes shape,

But connect the dots, I can’t,

And, somewhere,

All meaning is lost.

I close my eyes and

Search through the corners

Of my mind,

I open every door and

Walk past fear –

I even encounter pride,

But shut her out –

Until I find it,

A memory.

I reach for it,

And hold on tight,

Until my hand begins

To trace it with my pen.

But the image, it changes

When paper it meets,

For time has altered

My perception.

But the past is the past,

And it can’t be changed,

So the paper, I discard,

And back to the start

I go...

This time,

I keep my eyes open,

No matter how long

I have to wait.

Risk It

Know what you want,

Say what you want,

And work for what you want—

Then, if it’s meant to be,

You’ll get what you want.

Speak every word – and act every act –  

With purpose.

Don't assume, ask,

And never let fear get in your way.

Manage your risk,

But risk nonetheless,

And most of all,

Risk love.

Open your heart

To Love,

To Love staying,

To Love leaving,

To Love coming back. 

Speak Your Heart

You didn’t try hard enough,

You simply mused.

You mused over her,

Over your temporary muse,

But let her get away without a fight—

You didn’t see the use.

You didn’t see

That you weighed on her mind,

That under your weight,

She waited.

She waited, in silence,

For you to lead the way,

But you, too, stayed silent,

Not knowing what to say.

Not knowing what answer

She would give in return,

The question, you veiled,

The truth, you would never learn.

The truth: she would have set you free,

If only you had tried,

Despite the fear

That you might fall—

A shot in the dark

Is better than no shot at all.

Swinging

I swung from the branch,

Holding fast to the rope.

We swayed together,

Back and forth,

Cradled in the shelter

Of the leaves above.

I knew that I should let go,

I knew that I would have to take the plunge.

But I was bound to the rope—

We were intertwined—

And I knew that were I to let go,

The rope would fall.

Slowly, we swayed, and

Slowly, my fingers untangled...

As the water carried me away,

I glanced back and

Saw the rope,

Still hanging.