Doors

There is nothing more exciting than walking through a door.
To the steps of the mundane or to the next adventure.
We always know where we are going 80% of the time.
The clinking of keys in our hands, locking our doors to keep our family, possessions and secrets safe.

What if the next time we go through a door
We abandon our clothing and run down the street.
To be touched by wind, sun or rain.
And to escape the voice of reason that binds us to our daily ghost.

Where Will This all Go?

Where will this all go?
Into the abyss where screams are not heard
Where laughter becomes a chuckle behind concrete walls

Where will the weary traveler unfold his belongings?
Lay his head on the sand and call it home
Where will the women give birth to her child that will never live to be 30?

When the rivers swell and the oceans disappear and mud is caked between ones fingers
Does this have a happy ending after tears swell and evaporate in the shadow world?

Where will this all go?
When in the tiniest of creatures all forms develop and bloom
Heading towards the sun and moon.