A Door Stands In My Way

a door stands in my way. it is charmingly carved, vines curling around the smooth lacquered edges. still retaining the original hue of the wood yet brighter now, gold shines from within surrounded by the walls of the forest hidden away from prying eyes, it seems to flicker more in the shadows of afternoon sun first cinnamon – then colors ripple across the caramel surface till it is less like wood and more a faery-touched pool mahogany, russet red, amber and umber adorned with a copper knocker of a proud bird spreading his free wings wide – a vision of who I could be and I know some magnificent trove of treasure is waiting beyond knowledge of what I have wanted since I could want my hand reaches out, longing in every slender finger the shining handle is so close – everything I yearn for could be at my command. but do I even dare? Could I even do it? indecision burns every bold stroke of confidence and the whispering sunlit forest burns too quicker then I can stop it, smoldering fire turns to ash ash to dust, and dust to darkness, and then – a door stands in my way. it is smooth steel, heavyset and towering almost like stone, no imperfections to be seen and through the murky darkness swirling around me it is the only thing I know now. one single line runs down it, ready to be pried open and I could. I could push it open, smash it to bits I could walk straight through it. but – how could I? what lies beyond? nothing but uncertainty and falsehood, maybe a lone silver mirror with the glass in shards reflecting everything I do not wish to see reflecting the person I see in the door who is blocking my path now. but still, my memories – long since turned to ash – long gone piece themselves back together and I, standing there unable to go beyond am the only one who has chained myself up. hope peels back the veils of darkness I could go running through it, heart pounding and soaring, and dancing, and reaching, and finally flying free through the glorious sky I could. so I do.