Wednesday, May 20, 2009



All doors are full of promise

for him. He holds their handles

like gifts he’s found by chance,

or hands to hold in his hand

before entering the paradise

of a room or a house or a street.

To him, the eyes of other people

are doors to a castle,

and raising his arms in pleasure

is opening the door of praise.

He sees a door

in the darkness of sorrow

and in the first page of a book.

If you see him,

he will just be opening

the plain door of the present.  

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