The Door

A decision or decisions faced at life's crossroads

 

The Door

 

A young man stood in front of a brazen door,

Silently disturbed at his being there in the midst of the Eve.

Before him stood the door, behind him the road he had just traversed

And on either side of the road were seats filled with people.

One side beckoned him to sit and stay,

The other side saying: “He must see for himself.”.

 

In the while and you woman sits on her throne.

A lovely Princess of a girl, quietly awaiting the opening of her door.

 

The young man stood helplessly in front of the Door,

The giant brazen door with its shining brilliance.

He gazed at the latch in its terribly heavy appearance

And at hinges seemingly impossible to swing

As one side beckoned and the other side urged.

 

And in the while, the Princess awaits the opening of her door.

 

The young man’s courage rises to heights much greater

Then he has ever imagined.

He feels he must now open this door,

But the door stands locked and no key can be found.

No way to change his mind nor his will,

He sits to think.

 

The young man rises, a revelation is felt.

He thrusts his hand to deep within his pocket.

And there, long forgotten, is found a key,

A gift from another Princess from a time since past.

The key, made of brass,

Shines dully within the young man’s hand.

 

But the young man turns from the door, decision to make.

Deeply he breathes and in a swift turn

The key in his hand and into the lock it turns.

Once into the lock the key now disappears,

And swings open the large brass door.

 

The young man’s courage rose,

The door he flung open now wide.

To find another road straightway ahead,

But clover strewn the path instead.

A young maiden awaits, hit arm to take,

As her escort through the clover strewn road.

One side their heads hung low

And a warning call from a friend so close

But not to fall on the young man’s ears.

 

And still, the princess waits forlorn.

 

The road of clover now turned to stone

And the maiden at his arm now departed.

Rest he must, and so he stopped.

Fog and doubt now clears, the young man arose

Upon the road, his eyes fell again

 

Alone he trod this road of stone and at last at last,

The road came clear

And before him now another door

Silver it shone in the morning light

And again the people upon the seats

One side beckoning

The other side urging.

 

And still the Princess awaits,

Though Princes are many who stand at her throne.

 

Once more the young man must decide.

His courage now weakened, his faith in man dim.

From the side he is pulled, then in courage he rises

And breaks himself free

And grabs the latch to open easily.

The door opens freely, swinging wide on its hinges

 

Now waits another fair maiden to take his hand,

Her escort he serves down this cloud like road.

 

Suddenly the clouds all fade and the road becomes dirt,

Dusty and hard, to travel unbearable

And dim his view of the path ahead.

The young man falters and must be regained,

As once again he clears his mind

But gone is the maiden and alone he is left.

 

Ahead he beholds a great golden door

And approaches with caution

Memories of the brass and silver upon his mind

Noise from the seats now urge him on still.

 

 

The young man puts forth his hand the door to touch

And takes the great golden latch.

Easily it opens

But the door it will not

Stubborn it stands, blocking his path.

With shoulders square and strength regained

He pushes hard the door once again.

Success to be had and finally realized

As the once stubborn door is now open wide.

 

And while the Princess waits, heavy is her heart,

None found suited.

And now at the foot of her throne

Are none.

 

Rough is the road, and one to trod

Impossible to pass, he struggles along.

A maiden he meets and along at his side,

A new friend once found to help him along

 

Together they travel this harsh bumpy path,

Narrow it is, destinations not clear.

Part they must, for her work is ended

But alone he cannot bear this rough narrow path

And rest now he must till clear grows his mind.

 

Alone now he rises and finds now the road

Has become smoother and wider to pass.

The young man now travels on

Effortless his travel, but long in distance

The path now ends

He beholds a new door.

 

This one strikes the young man with awe.

Diamond this one and now he approaches

The seats so familiar no people are found

And advice is now nowhere in sight

Yet roads now branch the left and to the right

With no help to decide, he girds up his strength.

 

And approaches he the door of diamonds to bright.

The latch he lifts bravely, his courage make this light

And once open wide the door is free.

 

Standing at the threshold

The young man is amazed at his eyes beholding.

The throne is right there, to his eyes a great glow.

So approach now he must and eyes are cast lowly.

Arises now the Princess as the young man bows,

She offers a hand and holds yet her breath.

Quiet so deafening, he takes her hand.

 

Light to his touch, smooth in its texture and gentleness felt,

His spirits are lifted,

And now more firmly takes he her hand

As she steps from her throne.

 

Speechlessly together they stand

Words this moment would surely destroy

But speak now they must

And both struggle to find

Words to break this moment so grand

 

Now passes the moment and finally they speak

Words flow freely and feelings now brightened

Closer together they grow

 

Eyes now meeting in comfort both feeling

And peace overcomes them as a strange force draws together

Their lives so distant, now the journey begins

The attraction so strongly felt strengthens them both.

 

Now together they leave,

On the path never once trodden

Smooth is this path, no clover, no cloud

To hide away truth from their seasoned eyes

Honesty now reigns and plant they the ground

The seed from which love will abound.

 

Pete Love

Senior Class

MPHS 1974

 

 

 

 

 

Reviews

[Marie Anzalone]

This is not your typical angst-ridden teenage love poem- and shows great skill, insight, and compassion. I'm wondering if you ever found her? Your work has improved since this, but this is beautiful in its own right for what it is.

The metaphor of the doors reminds me of Teresa of Avila's metaphor of the soul being a castle, through which you enter via a series of doors.

[ICE]

This is a beautiful piece of work. It reminds me of a fairytale. Good luck in the contest.
~ICE

[Kara Hadley]

the feeling behind this was genuine, but that almost got lost in the wordiness of this. don't use two words, when one will due. don't repeat things, it dampens the meaning.

[Chloe..Across the Unive..]

a beautiful poem and very well written.. good luck in the contest.

Chloe
xoxo

[THERISA]

There is a sense of innocence, in the way that you wrote this poem. In conveying the challenges, that the hero must face to win the hand of the princess. Wonder, would you have written this poem, the same way today. As you did, back in 1974. Given your life experiences. Thank you for sharing this part of earlier life with us.

Therisa

[An Ordinary Woman]

This is lovely, Pete. I'm glad you included the date because that brings a certain innocence to this remarkable piece of writing, you were a true poet even then.

That and I'm thrilled to see posting. Absolutely thrilled. :+)