The Gatekeeper

The door is ajar, oh so slightly,

But the gatekeeper guards it well.

Is it push or pull to gain access?

Only the gatekeeper can tell.


Are there treasures within to be defended?

Do these riches belong to himself? or

Secured for another, what lies inside?

Only the gatekeeper can tell.


Will pushing reveal his story?

Hidden, a story of self? or

Teasing with tempting persuasion?

Only the gatekeeper can tell.


Is pulling at door the answer?

In effort to see so much wealth?

Perhaps it’s revolving, a spinning collusion?

Only the gatekeeper can tell.


Connections within and without there,

A maze that leads to deep well,

A thread to return to safe haven,

Only the gatekeeper can tell


If sentinel shields with fierce fury,

Custodial protection against peril.

Is guarding the gate the price of his fate?

Only the gatekeeper can tell.


16 thoughts on “The Gatekeeper”

  1. Well written mommus! Sounds like me stepping into spirit…you would be surprised just how similar it is…then you realise you have been arguing with yourself the whole time 🙂
    Yes, I’m still here because I wasn’t very well this morning so I don’t leave till tomorrow morning. It’s now 10pm here and the New Year is but a couple of hours away…enjoy it’s arrival…I’m bushed and heading for bed…big day tomorrow! (if I get my head out of this computer) 🙂


    1. I wondered when I saw your comment incoming. I knew you said you would be away for a few days. I hope you feel better by tomorrow and get to spend your time away feeling grand. These gatekeepers can be a bugger. Maybe no pushing or pulling, just waiting in spirit for answers inside. Namaste, Mark. x


      1. Thank you, I will be feeling on top of the world come tomorrow! As for Gatekeepers, we are the Gatekeepers! Our higher selves show us more and more but only when we are ready, we have to play in the mud first, then we realise just how grand the mud is, and it is no longer mud then! Amazing journey, but oh so beautiful. Have a lovely evening to see the new year in. Namaste, mommus. x


      2. Your ego is just there to chatter away and drive you insane, but even so is a very important learning tool. It is when we begin to learn that underneath that is our spirit/higher selves/God slowly showing us the way. Those magic moments when we truly give from the heart, those serendipity moments when you feel the love really come through and touch you and others around you, that you begin to realise that is your truth within, and you slowly begin to give from that place and the ego then becomes a partner instead of just a chatter box. And when you live your truth from that place, the universe gives back in kind. When you finally understand that, the aha moments start going off like Christmas tree lights all over. It is an amazing realisation to finally ‘see’ what has gone before, and now what is to come. Incredibly beautiful when you see the perfection in just how it all works.
        Did I say I was going to write a book? lol. Now where have I heard that before! Must have a chat with my book writing friend Julie….soon, I be thinking, soon! Namaste


      3. I’ll need to read this slowly and carefully tomorrow, Mark. A bit tired and slightly pissed tonight. But, I would say there’s definitely a book in there. get on to Julie! 🙂 x


  2. The door is ajar – That must be the first ever joke I ever heard/told. When is door not a door – I never understood it for years lol.
    Here is poetry which belongs to my grandfather Albert Bowers Tyrrell. A little bit about him, he was a station officer in the Cleethorpes fire brigade during WWII, he played piano and never learnt to read music but he could listen to a tune and play it, he owned a little monkey, when he retired from the fire brigade he became a ambulance man, before he was a fireman he was on the trawlers fishing around Iceland and up to the northern ice shelfs. This is him and my grandmother the year Butlins in Skegness opened 1936 They are the couple in the front. (shhh they were not married then)
    When my unwed mother told her father she was pregnant with me he never spoke to her until the day I was born and then he wept saying I was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. I was 4 when he died of lung cancer, but right up to my early teens I used to see him always in the same corner of my grandmothers house, where his rocking chair used to sit.
    He made all of his childrens toys and for my mothers 21st birthday he made her a 3ft metal key welded and cut. He was also known for his songs especially funny and silly songs. This one I have hunted the net and never found it, I have always known it, its always been with me as my grandfather has been. The family says this was made up by my grandfather so here it is.

    Do you want a fag Sir?
    No Sir.
    Why Sir?
    Got a cold Sir,
    Where did you get the cold Sir?
    From the North pole Sir,
    What you doing there Sir?
    Catching polar bear Sir
    How many did you catch Sir?
    One Sir, Two Sir, the rest caught me Sir.

    Albert Bowers Tyrrell.

    It is said that he made it up for his girls as a skipping song – Which it does have that rythem, also as many of his friends and family, his daughter Betty was married to Podge who was a deep sea fisherman and so was his father Frank Bowers who would sail north for the cod and bring home seal skin products, gloves, boots, hats that its quite possible that a polar bear or two skins came back to Grimsby.

    For some reason your Gate Keeper triggered me to tell you the story of Albert and his polar bears.

    Happy New Year.


    1. Triggers. You triggered for me a photo my dad took of my mum way back that he coloured in a similar way. My mum sitting on a bench outside the Kelvingrove Art Gallery, I think it was. So much has changed in a relatively short period. It’s good to be reminded of these things. Memories are a wonderful thing, especially if you have photos to back up the moment and see the changes of the days. Special photos, Pete. And my poem prompted that. weird, eh? But weirdly wonderful, I also think, the way our minds work. thanks for sharing your past in this special way. 🙂 x


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