soft grumbles

I have gone through doors.
Some opened wide, all I did
was enter only to find nothing.

 Some were shut tight
I had to knock several times
before I could go inside
 not knowing what lies ahead.

 Some I had to force my way in,
 to sate my senses emitted by flowers
 of red , white, velvet yellow or pink;
or a rainbow so clear that I can see

the end and claim my pot
of metal or ore; open my eyes
to snow-capped mountains,
birds singing atop a tree,

butterflies fluttering about;
dancing mermaids or flashing fairies,
find delight in life’s surprises.
Turn the knob,
open the door and hope
it does not open to limbo or hell.