The Door to Life – A Poem

For some time,

everywhere I went

there was a

door that followed

me. It was

scarred and its

paint was peeling,

its door knob

was rusted. On

the door was

written one word:

Life

I would see

the door out

of the corner

of my eye

no matter where

I went. It

would appear in

front of me

while I was

walking, always a

step ahead of

me. For a

while, I was

the only one

who could see

it. The door changed

as the years

went by. The

paint changed colour,

it looked even

more aged as

I got older.

Finally, one of

my friends noticed

the door. She

nudged me in

the ribs softly.

“You know there’s a door there, right?”

I looked at

her, surprised that

she could see it.

“You can see it too?”

I asked. She

nodded and said

“Of course I can. How long has that been following you around?”

I shrugged.

“Quite some time. Years actually.”

She gaped at

me and said:

“Why haven’t you gone through it yet?”

“Because I have no idea where it will lead.”

“Isn’t that part of the fun? Life is meant to be experienced. Open the door and find out where it goes.”

I walked home,

the door following

me. It had

begun to pulse

and shift, almost

as if it were

starting to fade.

It stood in

the middle of

my living room.

The word on

the door,

Life

had begun to

glow, the door

handle shining brilliantly.

I took a

deep breath and

reached for the

door handle, expecting

it to be

white hot in

my hand. Instead,

it was as

if a calming

breeze filled my

skin. I opened

the door slowly

and, at first,

saw only light.

Then a shape

began to become

clear. I was

looking at the

shape of a

man. He held

out his hand

to me and

I took it.

“Come with me.”

You said.

“There is so much of life waiting to be explored.”

I stepped through

the door and

felt my life

begin anew.