Doors

Doors are a gift
The brutal reminder that things are separate without action.
That beyond every solid wall of banilty, uncertainty and frustration,
Waits another world.
Those liminal spaces hang between every place, every thought.
Holding the loud noise of possibility
Outside, so that a mind can take a step,
Calmly or feebly,
Marching or dancing,
In the right direction.

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