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 |   A poem a week for a year. |
** Image ID #2226154 Unavailable ** Portal Somewhere in the forest stands a door, standing free, enigmatic, without walls, questioning, stirring something deep within us, a whisper of portals, gateways and other worlds. Lewis was right, we’ve made a modern mythology that links as a chain of mystery our reading and learning and so to our souls. Who can see the door without being moved and drawn to open it, to see what lies within? In whose heart does the word “Narnia” not speak itself from a childhood memory? Twice was this symbol, the portal to nowhere, employed as an image to inhabit our minds, once for the Telmarines to return to their land, and at the end of the world as a gateway to heaven. All life has rushed through that doorway, the story contracted to a single moment, meaning condensed to this narrow entrance, constriction in the hourglass of being through which we all must pass, one way or another, the blessed and the damned. And here in the forest stands a door, silent and brooding with what lies beyond. Who can resist the urge to try it, to turn that handle, to view the mystery it hides?  Line Count: 26 Free Verse For Promptly Poetry Challenge, 2020 Prompt: a minimum of 12 lines inspired by the image of a door in the forest. |
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