Tuesday, October 21, 2014

Here is a door


Here is a door. Or, rather, four letters. A word.
The word opens. Light enters. A cloud. A storm. A bird.

The bird bears a message. Or, rather, the message bears her.
Four letters, four doors, four storms, four birds.

Forever. And on. Infinite doors. Letters.
Clouds. Storms. Messages. Birds.

No hands. No knobs. No frames. No walls.
Only doors. Infinite words.

Light enters. Where was it before?
No one has mentioned the dark.

No night. No veil. No blinds.
Once were. Then are.

No time. See how they fly.
Dark enters. Light. Light, as a word.



8 comments:

Lon said...

I love the way that is written, and where it takes me.

William Michaelian said...

Thank you, Lon....

Jonathan Chant said...

This is a morning poem, for me at least. I step out into the garden and take a look at the sky: the first birds, the first words. Mr Saroyan arrived today, William. All the way from Toledo.

William Michaelian said...

Excellent news. Please tell him hello. Blackbird has spoken, like the first... word.

Jonathan Chant said...

Will do...

Jan said...

It's always darkest before the dawn.
Without the dark there could be no light.
Where I am going with this...I know not!
I am stuck in the dark, William, that's all I've got!!!

I really enjoy how you have muddled my thoughts here today. Now I am leaving through that door,
For my befuddled brain can take no more :)

William Michaelian said...

Jan, thank goodness we can retreat to your beautiful autumn scenes. Because, after all, a five-letter word for door, is birch....

Jan said...

You are so clever, William and thank you :))