literature

Here There is a Knocking

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Literature Text

“Here There is a Knocking...”

I see you through the burnt and blackened mists of the past.
I watch you try to cleanse your hands and forever turn your back.
The cloth with which you fumble merely spreads the filth you hide,
The agony you keep within to shield your cherished pride.

I stand at your soul’s door every moment, gently rapping.
Waiting for an answer to my concerned finger’s tapping.
The cloth to which you cling keeps you from my presence.
Your shroud has seized your mind and locked you into silence.

Must you keep on hiding behind bitter discontent?
While each day you harbor darkness draws you into swift descent?
My hands will never tire from their vigil in the night.
I need no lamp nor candle, for my scars will make the light.

Although no hand from you, my child, has graced this rusty knob,
I will never leave your doorstep. I will heal your spirit’s throb.

I know that you believe in your heart that I have gone
Withdrawn my hand and left you to make your way alone.
Deep within this labyrinth of disregarded artistry
I know you feel forgotten, yet you do not seek me.

I know the pain you suffer, but do not shrink inside.
The love I breathed within you, you must fight to keep alive.
I can do much to help you, if you will only let me in.
I can mend your grief and torment and wash the mire from your skin.

Fly away from the maze that your pride has created.
Take a step toward the door, for there I am waiting.
Don't ignore the knocking...
© 2008 - 2024 rabid---squirrel
Comments1
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Chinchilla-Man's avatar
This is probably my favorite poem of yours. Beautiful and full of meaning. Awesome!