I move through rooms,
Through different doors
On different levels,
Different floors
Of consciousness
In flightless mode,
Testing ground
On different roads.
Tapping surface just ahead
With sightless eyes
Within in my head.
Earthly tremors
Make me shake,
In moors of mire
I do quake
And flounder,
Drowning, gasping air
For evil monsters
Hide down there.
They grab my legs
And pull me under,
Spirit, mind
Are torn asunder.
Hands reach out
And pull me up,
Then offer me
The golden cup
To sip of life,
Not gulp so fast,
To savour it,
So it may last
A lifetime of
Exploring meaning,
Cherishing,
While also leaning,
Heavily,
On others’ might,
Struggling less
With what is right
And wrong
Or bad
Or good.
Implicitly,
They’re understood.
Some doors are locked
For my own sake,
May open when
Sleep does take
My soul to
Regions unexplored,
Found by some
And so, adored.
If I knock
And no one comes
I’ll figure this
Is one such one
That hides its truth
For later days,
When, creaking,
It will open wide,
Revealing treasures
Now to hide.
Through this mansion
I explore,
Tapping each
And every door.
scottishmomus 