Doors Closing

Doors are closing left and right
and I’m fumbling for the
Master

I try the knobs, I shake ‘em so hard and I…
I simply cannot make ‘em budge.
Without the keys, I’m stuck in this
checkered hallway of
white,
black, and
trickled red.

My eyes keep running dry
and as quickly as I hydrate
they regurgitate onto
these flooded floors that have me slippin’ and
those handles?
I’m holdin’ onto ‘em for dear life
and flailing my legs at the walls.

That tired womb managed, just barely,
to give me my heart
and I swear
it’s like watching a mirrored movie
set in a different place and time but
with familiar spirits
familiar love.

I find a cracked door down that
long, hard hallway and an emotion comes over me.
If it is his beautiful and generous reflection which
paradoxically is reflective of me,
then this healing? This uncertainty?

Well, it’s a joint effort and
there are no missing pieces—
just scattered, yearning to be put into place.
Crying out for completeness.

I make my way through the door
and I’m welcomed with his gracious smile.
I find myself lighter as
I sit down at the table in the middle of that
unlocked room
and our four hands get to work.

The pieces are coming together and
this puzzled picture?
It’s coming along
beautifully.