Behind the door, opened or not,
stands another door, hiding what?
Many the first door will not open,
for fear of the second, and not coping.
And so the dreary days, years do pass,
leading on, to confront the final one at last.
This door will open of itself, unbidden,
And what will timidity find, there hidden?
I am the door said One; call to open,
and move to surety from only hoping.
Ere you enter the door marked inevitable,
Come though Me, to joy, incomparable.
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| Writing Prompt |
Write a poem that describes what is behind the door. Any type of poetry welcomed. |
Author Notes
The shepherd would lie down for the night in the gate of the hhepfold. Thus nothing could get to the sheep except through the hepherd. Christ is the Good Shepherd who gathers and protects His own whom He purchased with His own blood.
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