I’ve paused between an open door,
Where childhood has firmly ended with my foot planted on this floor.
A threshold of adulthood now beckons,
Speaking wisdom, courage, and a thrill for adventures on one’s own.
But green grass tickles my now lifted heel,
Enchanting me with worlds unimagined.
My once determined head turns,
Looking back to a comforting home.
How can I forget twining paths of youth?
As vast mountains of wishes and desires rose and fell with the tide.
Oh how I remember each trodden step,
Willing myself to such great heights.
Now I stand with hand upon handle,
A darkened hall stretches into a fathomless beyond.
Listening to what was,
And make a choice.
Stepping back out into the wide open world,
I stoop to pick up a worn stone.
Hefting it’s weight I notice flecks of quartz shimmering.
Turning a smile to the sun I close my eyes and breath a taste of wind.
It all wraps around my body holding me tight,
And I embrace the child-that-was sealing our adoration with a gentle kiss.
Without a second glance I step back toward the egress,
And place my rock between door and frame.
Light illuminates the hall expounding upon which roads I should follow,
Bolstered by what was I eagerly press on framed by the radiance of juvenescence.
Michael is a husband, father, writer, poet, and aspiring author. He finds time to scribble down his thoughts in the dead of night, between ghosts and night owls. If you’d like to read more of his poetry follow the link here. Or to visit his full blog, ‘The Ink Owl’ click here.