Come Out

Come out he whispered,
afraid he might scare her away.

Come out he said again.
The light here is beautiful
and safe, and like a magic mirror
shows only beauty.

Come out, he said,
to a new world where you are enough
every day, where the lens is softly focused
and a hand is raised
only to caress.

Come out, he said one last time.
Open the door and even if you cannot come here,
let the light flood in
and warm your heart,
so long left cold
in the night.

Come out he said,
as the door shut,
the single crack closed
and he could see nothing,
but through the wood he heard
tears.

Come out, he said,
to himself, alone in the light.

Come out, he whispered,
and I will wait.

About this poem

Inspired by the picture, and e.e.cummings poem “May I Feel?”. And fueled by the flu’s fever I am dealing with. Hey, you do what you can.

Tom