Behind this door my past resides
Immune it is to change.
Although sometimes I look in there
I find it passing strange.
I have no way to alter it,
Although I long to do,
My past remains immutable
Where nothing can be new.
A second door is over there,
Yet hidden I must say,
For every step I take t’ward it
It moves a step away.
I cannot see what lies beyond,
My future there is hid,
Except to know it holds a box
On which they’ll nail a lid.
But one more door empowers me,
The door that leads to now.
It is the greatest of the three
And I shall tell you how.
The past is choices made today,
The laughter and the sorrow.
Those choices also chart the path
Which we will tread tomorrow.
—
© Glenn Meisenheimer, 2015