Open the door,
that’s the first step
to let it in,
to let it out.
Now,
take one step
and then again;
you’re on your way
towards the end.
I have no way to entice you
forward,
upward
and out of your mind.
I see you,
as if sitting in a prison;
eyes blind,
wrists tied.
And I know that you’re
exploding with questions
about where you’ll go
and what you’ll find.
The world allows a little indiscretion;
freedom is the starting line.
Once you’re outside,
there’s no going back in.
No amount of pleading,
crying,
clawing,
scratching’s
gonna help you win.
You’re gonna suffer through the narrows,
your chances range from none to slim,
you’re gonna curse the sky above you,
but you won’t go back again.
There are no safe spaces,
the only refuge is prayer,
but only if you can admit
that you’re scared;
of that big wide open sky,
that wide open delight,
in the day
that becomes the empty heart
of the night.
Nothing between you
and the infinite,
but the unseen forces
holding your feet down tight.
Freedom’s a terrible thing,
but the lock on the door
is a coffin nail.
Into the great unknown
every ship does sail.
Hush.
It is just the dreams
of mad men.
Quiet.
Close the door
and come back in.
It’s so safe and warm
here in the box,
with the ghosts.
Why would you want
to live
outside
where anything can happen?
Safe and sound,
breaking down.
I hear and knock at the door,
Mother.
I hear a knock at the door,
Father.
Who would be out at this hour?
HG – 2017
