The Red Door

Circle Way Poets met for the first time in 2012 yesterday. I so enjoy learning in that small space. If you want to be an artist, surround yourself with other artists and make images. If you want to be a writer and write poetry, surround yourself with other writers and poets and write poetry. It's the best way to learn--that and keeping a "beginner's mind". So, this is my first poem of 2012, and it's the one I presented to the circle of poets yesterday for critique. Thank you all for your guidance and help. I think I have a better piece.


THE RED DOOR

In the cacophonous central hall of this temple,
an endless maze of voices shout curses,
demand time and energy,
moan, and
weep past tragedies.

But there is also a red door
through which one may descend
into another time and space.

Circling round and round
Deeper,
then deeper still

into the caverns of
this holy place

Time slows

voices fade

until one passes an opening
into perpetual silence

only one Voice
in this deep space

…listen.



During the critique session, Andy asked, "Why a red door?" I was caught off guard, and hadn't really thought "why red", but as I worked on the mandala this morning, I thought about my love of red.

Simply said, I love red. Red stops me in my tracks and says, "Pay attention." In a noisy, busy place, I won't easily miss a red door. Red is my "power" color, not so much about having Power Over someone else, but power to become who I was meant to be. Most of my life has been spent trying to live up to someone else's expectations of what/who I was supposed to be. Something happened on the inside nearly 10 years ago when I simply died my hair red. All of a sudden, I was "free" to be who I wanted to be, and free to become what I wanted to be. Perhaps that's what Love's Red Door does for me. God's agape love sets me (and you) free to be and to become.

So welcome to The Red Door. All one has to do is grab the golden doorknob and enter.