knocking at the locked doors within


The hinges squeal and
slowly swing open -
Then
another door here
and one here and here
open and open -
The wind of the sea flows
through a clear mazing passageway
chasing stale air and secrets
from compartments long locked
one from the other.

Knocking at the doors
of the chambers within -
What I'm trying to say
is that one friend
crosses a state line to visit -
Jesus comes to town
on Buddha's bicycle -
and we're eating trail mix
and pecan pie -
life one sweet chaos
where black and white say
hello, and
hello