The Brass Knob
A Poem About Metamorphosis
The paint on the door
Is chipped and stained;
The brass knob once polished
Is now pitted, black, tarnished, and dull.
It waits for her touch
To reach from the musty dark room
But darkness and grey gloom
Is comfort,
A hiding place from everybody
Even self.
Through the door is life,
Light,
Seeing and being seen.
The brass knob feels
Like it was made for her hand;
And
She takes it.
The choice made- she becomes like
Sails caught by the wind, and
Makes passage through the door
From dark to light.
She walks through
Into the rose hue sunlight.
To see and be seen, and to
Intentionally
live.
"I have come that they may have life and have it abundantly " Jesus in John 10:10.
(c) A.E. Dozat 4/26/15
A Poem About Metamorphosis
The paint on the door
Is chipped and stained;
The brass knob once polished
Is now pitted, black, tarnished, and dull.
It waits for her touch
To reach from the musty dark room
But darkness and grey gloom
Is comfort,
A hiding place from everybody
Even self.
Through the door is life,
Light,
Seeing and being seen.
The brass knob feels
Like it was made for her hand;
And
She takes it.
The choice made- she becomes like
Sails caught by the wind, and
Makes passage through the door
From dark to light.
She walks through
Into the rose hue sunlight.
To see and be seen, and to
Intentionally
live.
"I have come that they may have life and have it abundantly " Jesus in John 10:10.
(c) A.E. Dozat 4/26/15
