Doors to the Shrine

The doors stand before you,
passed each day,
barely noticed,
an ornament perhaps,
or part of the landscape.
An oddity,
a little scary,
a little quirky,
better to ignore and move past.

But stop.
Look.
Wonder.

There is magic there,
behind those doors,
unimaginable beauty,
unimaginable power,

just waiting for you
to find the courage
and step inside.

About this poem

The picture is of african shrine doors. Which got me thinking about shrines, and how they opened the way to holy places that were hidden from most people.

And yet, they do not need to be. Holiness is available to us all. Love is available to us all. But we have to open the doors.

Tom