Sometimes we look so long for a door that the weight of metaphor slows our passing. We think too much about doors being open or closed; we fiddle around with shifting, poetic states in between, and we get a little lost. We fixate on what lurks on the other side: something beautiful, something terrible, something we crave or fear.
We imagine ourselves striding on through into some bright or bleak unknown. And for what?
Maybe we’ve got it all wrong: maybe it’s not about passage, but illumination. And there’s plenty of it right here, if you stand still and let your eyes adjust. You might not see it right away, but you’ll find it along the surfaces of things. Forget the door; look for dust instead, and follow the beams.
A window of opportunity isn’t always what you expect. Maybe, if you are to see it clearly, something has to break. But look for light dappling through, bending just so, and open yourself to beauty as you stand before those angled shards. Let the light touch your feet and cover your brow. Let it spill in.
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