doors

I read stories of distant rushing waters

mimicking the sounds of the river of life flowing

when and how and which way does it end?

an outcry echoes against the wall

or maybe the trees hear the sighing

their fruit holds keys and blueprints waiting

aching echoing from the depth of lost hopes

which were never meant to be lost

what is obedience now:

did I lose sight of the next

or is it just breathing in

relearning this default

trusting is -- not even counting on the next time coming soon

not even waiting by the door which closed.