Transparency

Open the doors,

oh dearest of dears,

so that we may be.

Transparency is what

I ask of you.

Draw back those curtains

and let in the light,

for God's sake,

and your own.



Open the doors,

that you may prosper in

the Garden that is yours.

A snake is not present.

Take no heed of doubt,

or those who doubt you.

It is your Garden, after all,

as it is mine.



Open the doors.

The eagle takes wing, and

lands on your shoulder.

In many houses, he

would be an unwanted guest,

and so, he remains outside,

waiting for the call.

He heard you unbolt.



Open the doors.

A shaggy black dog

with floppy lips drawn back in a smile

had been waiting on the

porch, loyal still to

his forgetful master.

Throw a stick and he

will fetch it for you,

and deposit it at your feet,

nudge it with a slimy thick muzzle.

He might have laughed.



Open the doors,

that the orchestra may see

it's conductor for the first time,

outside the warped medium

of an old and dusty window.

Your ballads rain on you,

and then pour out from you.

Lo and behold, the theatre

is part of your house!



Open the doors,

that the waters may equalize,

to take a fine afternoon

swim through deep cobalt seas.

Abandon your short and painful

drowning within the confines of

your unforgiving and personal aquarium.



Open the doors,

and let me in.

You carry a hermit’s backpack,

thick and heavy, dense,

cornucopia of worries.

Let me relieve you.

My heart

grows leaden with love,

and to carry you is to

lessen that burden.



Open the doors,

let us all lift

you into the sky and higher,

together we shift

Mountains.



Open the doors,

come to know yourself.

Love yourself, as I do.

Let life come in.