The Doorway

I have yet to find the key to your heart.

The door will remain locked,

Bolted and steadfast against my love

Until I find that one small key.

Like a raindrop you fell into my life,

Seemingly insignificant but

Holding so much inside you, to

Sustain me like the water I so desperately needed.

Like a cloud you swept in from the west

Over the horizon and

Illuminated by sunlight but

Threatening to disperse forever.

The doorway to your love holds many scars;

Scratched names and dents in the wood,

Where lovers have attacked and fought to enter.

Fruitless battles for a glimpse inside.

The bolted stable door appears weak.

A double entrance which allows for

Slow, partial entry

As your love builds over time.

Standing opposite the doorway.

Seeing through your soul to the entrance,

I reach out a hand.

Press it against the wood.

Splinters attack my skin and the wood is cool,

AsI run my fingers against the grain,

Ignoring the shadows imprinted,

Ignoring the names carved painfully in the surface.

Palm flat against the door,

Whispering one single request.


The door swings open.

The key was with me all along.