I had no reason to write
Yet I did write
I enjoyed the process
I was pleased with the outcome
A door, that I had closed
Was ever so slightly reopened
A thin shaft of light, streamed
Through the airborne dust
There in that movement
I imagined gaiety, the energies
Of love, carried on in twirling
Multicoloured specks of life
I have no reason to write
Yet I hope to write again soon
To engage in the belief, that
I might then give back the light
To a door I am able to re-open
A little more each day
This is a poem from Vagaries:
Love of The Key to Room 149