The Door

 

What lies beyond this portal –

This dark forbidding gate – iron-shod?

Some stairway bright – reaching upwards?

Or down to where bravest dread trod?

 

Are its vault like timbers guarding –

Some treasure wonderful to keep?

Or an archive so steeped in power,

That sages would die for just a peek?

 

This doorway mighty – is all this,

All this, and much, much more,

For it leads upwards to glory

Where great treasures and secrets are stored.

 

How then shall one enter?

By some mystical password of old?

What strength might it take to just budge it?

Is it by some fabulous key of gold?

 

To open, no magic words are needed,

Nor elaborate key fobs or charms;

This gate is open to all who near it,

Like welcoming out stretched arms.

 

The door is but a simple church gate –

It is open for all to come in,

Its treasures and secrets stand ready,

For all who enter to win.

 

Padre

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I challenge you . . .