A door

 

In a crowded room

I am a conundrum

wrapped in enigmatic skin.

A mystery formed of

many beginnings,

middles and endings.

Pathways leading in

so many different directions.

So chaotically organised

in maze like delight,

I explore every path and I feel alive.

In a crowded room, I am a door.

 

I can be extrovert

or I can hide away

from sight.

I don’t like to speak,

but then I get on stage

and shout.

I don’t like to be seen,

but I like to stand out.

I am inwardly bright,

outward I shade

in the love of sunlight.

though i want to be adored, I hide from the praise. 

In a crowded room, I am a door.

 

In a crowded room

I’m scared to stand tall.

I wilt like a flower into soil,

yet give me the stage,

And I want to hold you all

with my words

exploding from the page,

my soul, my core.

In a crowded room, I am a door.

 

In a crowded room, I embrace the wall,

not being central, I stand away from it all.

Just letting everything

wash

over me,

until I can feel my heart

beating

so

loud.

I feel skyscraper tall

when I can inspire

others to feel the call of the mic.

As they share themselves with the crowd.

I feel warm.

In a crowded room, I am the door.

 

In a familiar space,

I am hope and warmth,

in abstract memories I hold my case,

in unknown worlds I feel out of place.

In my home

I hold my arms open for all.

I love with a passion

and I smile with joy.

I sing from my lungs

like a bird seeing dawn call

for the first time over the

bountiful meadow of it all.

In this familiar space, I am a door.

Open to all.