Saturday, May 19, 2012

No entry

There is no entry here,
this place beyond access
the untidy consign of secrecy.
I go here alone,
the throne room of reality,
unobserved by friend or foe
and face the fears of failure
the silent celebrity of self.
There is a lock on this womb,
there is no key.
Daily the room shrinks -
a placenta in decay,
light creeps in undancing
wounds heal.
For here, alone is not solitary,
the currency of tears is not unseen,
fears not invisible,
the sovereign hand of God
visits the unlocking.

1 comment:

The Unknowngnome said...

"...At once all the prison doors flew open, and everyone’s chains came loose."

I like this piece very much Keith. It has become a most favored of mine of all your works that I've read.

Well done.