Cloud of Doors, and Things to Open

i’m waiting on a cloud

i see a door

.

i move closer

one becomes three

.

i begin to wonder

which one to open

,

now another row’s behind them

.

.

.

one, has me mesmerized

it looks wise, worn wood

in my gaze, the word HABIT appears

it opens, ajar

.

i begin to move into it

before i realize this is where i am,

i freeze

standing, thinking, excitement prevails

in

an

instant i am anxious, afraid

fearful as to what comes next

.

.

i’m in my bedroom

all i see are the piles

clothes, enveopes to file, envelopes

to PAY NOW that had been left, always

on the top, so i’ll pay…

but now,

all i see is old,

yellowing,

how tired they look, they have given up

on me

i didn’t care enough to

hang up the dress jacket,

or stick the card i bought from MOMA

in a frame

.

.

i tire.

i need to sit.

i need to release the tension from my room.

.

i look around me, i see

the depression glass emeral green vanity tray,

the noritake candy dish that holds the pink ostrich

feather that gathers dust, two sterling button hooks,

pyramid shaped rocks, and the porcelain japanese hat-pin holder

all sitting ‘Just So’

this is a comfortable place

a memory of a time, a place, a circumstance

when i was last happy

with myself

.

.

a back door falls off it’s hinges

PROCRASTINATE begins to disappear

but now a wall appears

the arched opening commands attention

a cloud sign reads SURROUND YOURSELF WITH BEAUTY

.

to my right, a mausoleum

as i walk through it’s hallway,

i notice little doors, drawers really

they are lettered; pay, return form, cancel, throw away,

make appointment, call, send

.

this is my wall of procrastination and guilt

none of the door’s sit on the floor off it’s hinges

.

i will look again, tomorrow, it is getting late

.

as i leave, i see one larger door,

it reads

FEAR

it looks like a mood ring changing colours

as my emotions change

.

.

i tire.

i need to sit.

i need to release the tensions from that resting place.

.

as i walk away

i remember the lace that graced my dressing table

and the tablature, my shrine, is remembered

.

i smile.

i smile for holding that memory,

i smile for the one i’ve yet to create

.

.

three cherub muses encircle me

to tell me when a door has fallen,

these muses are named INITIATE, DISCIPLINE and

STRIVE

.

.

i have much to learn,

but it’s good to know that i have chrub muses

to guide me through these doors and other things to open

.

.

-dld o2.o2.11-

___________________________

the muse is in, prompt # 109

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2 responses to “Cloud of Doors, and Things to Open

  1. An interesting poem…and perspective.

    • it has actually been cleansing for me… the write was more like watching a dream and i discovered things about myself that ‘need work’… sort of like a Construction Site, this blog/journal entry is!!!!

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