Playing for Time

***

THE DOORS

They stand erect in never-ending rows, each one offering a choice to make.

Some are dark, some bathed in light, all hold secret truths hard to unravel.

Here’s one labeled SILENCE. On which side, one wonders, there or here?

If I stand mute before it, will its stillness reveal wisdom and knowledge to my parched imagination?

**

So many doors, so many choices, so little time for everything.

The endless labels insinuate themselves upon our consciousness and leave us breathless…

How, how, how to ever investigate the options before time runs out and the buzzer signals an end to the game?

In the face of forever, time constraints are unspeakably cruel in their finality.

**

On they march, the doors, each firmly closed and locked to those without a set of keys.

Or is it just one key we need… the Master?

Is the secret in the simplicity?

Do we muddy the waters with our psychic flailing, drowning the answers directly under our feet?

**

Those doors, with their often obscure labels, stand like accusers we didn’t know we had

And the shock and awe outweigh the confusion until we get our bearings.

What do they really want from us, these sentinels of judgment?

Couldn’t we all have a nice chat and figure it out?

**

Conversation doesn’t seem to be the plan… and think about it

Everything has been said, end of story.

Now run, read the labels, make those choices!

Be fierce and turn a knob or two.

**

Guess you didn’t notice, that one said OFF THE CLIFF.

Oh well. Climb back up and keep reading

Because somewhere, in some wall, there’s a door that says SANCTUARY

And it does not lie.

**

JLSmith 02/19/2023