"All of our
operators are still busy helping others," says the recording. "We appreciate your patience. In fact, we take it to the bank."
Door
At the far end
of this sun-dappled,
wisteria-draped courtyard
I see a Romanesque
wooden door, slightly open,
revealing light from behind.
This courtyard is a lovely place
but the door invites me further.
Do I dare approach this portal
and open it? Walk through?
Will my future change?
Why am I so beckoned?
I push open the door and enter.
Two attendants lead me
directly to an oaken podium
set before a large audience
of robed men and women.
I am asked to give a speech.
Quietly I say to everyone:
"A speech I cannot give,
kind friends. There was
an outer door I saw ajar,
and I came boldly through,
but I am no one
you would listen to."
The same attendants
help me don a robe,
then lead me to a chair
among the listeners.
We all sit and wait.
*******
Alan Harris
All ponderables and poems in these e-mails were authored by Alan Harris. Sharing is fine.
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