sometimesihatemycat

Every time I find myself at your threshold

An image from a movie climbs out of a neuronal connection made 30 years ago

Your smooth white walls seem to supernaturally stretch out before me

The door at the end of you, with light haloed behind it

Bends and breathes with illusory incentive

Beckoning me to walk, then jog, then run

Through you, down, down, down the middle of you

Reaching out to grab, wrap my sweaty spindled fingers

Around the cool, smooth, metallic, magnetic doorknob

I am convinced that there is really something worth saving at the end of you

That I am the only one capable of doing it

Maternal, Mammalian, Make-Believe movie magic

I stand in the doorway willing to push myself

Through a jellied membrane

Into the unknown

~ by April on June 14, 2012.

Posted in God, Humanity, Loss, Meditation, Motherhood, Poetry, Ramblings & Observations