BECKONING

Somewhere deep inside
my wounded heart
opens a door.

Someone is beckoning me to come forth.

But is this a path that leads to adventure,
or a cell instead where everything's censored?

If I step through will the door stay open, freedom mixing with fun, or will it prove nothing new, as the door closes to entrap me, no freedom, no fun?

Will the light shining there reveal something honest, and good, or will it shine bright on an illusion that I misunderstood?

In this life much passion, much love I have known.
But today I am content to be alone.

With passion and love come hurt as well, how much hurt one can never tell.

Still, there is a wondering in my mind that lingers.
A hope that one day beneath my fingers,
a handsome soul will again feel my passionate touch.

But wait, I am reminded,
that feeling may cost too much.

Someone is beckoning.

My hands reach out,
they are connected to my heart
and love they wish to find.

But my feet refuse to move,
they ignore my heart
and stay connected to my mind.

My mind knows that my wounded heart never seems to make the right choice.

So my feet protect me by staying put
and my hands cover my ears
to drown out the voice.

The voice of someone beckoning me to come forth.

and

Somewhere deep inside,
my wounded heart
closes a door .