I don't remember having a dream
Where making choices could wake me up
My shaking hand slowly reaches out to the silver knob
The other is clutching my horrified heart
I can't tell what's on the other side of the door
But I am willing to keep going on
The door slowly opens and I can see a light
An empty forest with the sun glowing on a golden harp
A beautiful harp such as this glows in a warm light
I walk up to it and seen its pure form
Though I never played a harp before
Strumming the highest string sounded like a harmony
Something inside me told me that life will be full of doors
Each of them containing something that we may not have seen before
Sarah Pesta
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/life-of-doors/
