Ther Vine Keeper

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Sunday, February 24, 2013

out of that door

out of that door

i sat in the room
of my personalized containment
a place of my own design

i had decorated the walls
with all the things
i have accumulated
over the span
of my journey here

the scene was the same
every day
every night
every moment
even when i closed my eyes

i was the rote-filled bored one
for i had already
worked my way
through all the Crayolas
and all the combinations thereof

i needed change
i needed a new Coloring Book
i needed courage
to dare

so i simply rose up
walked to the door
unlocked it
opened it
and walked out

i walked across
the pretty vicarious lawn
through the visceral Flower Beds
heading due west
through the meadow
attempting to catch the Sun
before it set

i was seeking an uninhibited expression
of who i may become
this day
this moment

each footstep
created a new way
a new path
but i cared not who would dare to follow
nor did i wish to return
for the memories
ancient and recent
of this and all carnations
i knew far too well

i wanted to climb out of my skin
and this shell
this box
i have built to hold and house
all that i have come to accept
as my destiny
my summation
my self
my life
my lives

as i said . . .  i was bored

as i considered my way
a new consciousness of wonder
began to come about
a dawning
and i became filled
with a penchant
to discover new sounds
new sights
new possibilities
never before considered
in my finite aspects nor perspectives of life

this all seemed so eerily familiar though

my “due West” migrated
slightly to the South
and then to the North
there were no rules
and i had no particular objectives
nor agendas
save but to learn this new dance
this dance of life
i was now engaging in

as i continued forward
i found and stood witness
to explorable new horizons
which ever way i looked
or focused upon

and in my stillness
there was movement
as i became somewhat anxious
for the room i left behind
was fading
like shadows at High Noon
and i felt it all through me
the release

i was seeing my life
than i have ever have before
i saw that it did not belong to me
but i belonged to it . . . LIFE

in the final striking of what once was
that resonant chord
a new indescribable music began to play
for in my submission
i found my liberation
all because
i dared the unknown
and i walked out of that door

© 22 February 2013 : william s. peters, sr.

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