A Poem: Entranceways

Lord of the opening and shut doors.
The ways in,
the leading out.

We of the small vision,
the possessions
and tender dreams –

we give it all,
give it all over.

Not by counting,
or packing,
or by measuring all our gains,

but by inviting you.
Welcoming you in.

Lord of the opening and shut doors.
We hold in our hands
the sum of ourselves.

And you do not prise apart
our grips,
but hold our tight fists

in your palms
soft, enclosed.

That if there is a sweep
of your hand,
we know itโ€™s not to topple us

and our small cities,
harboured,

but to show us possibilities
on new brave horizons.

Ana Lisa de Jong
Living Tree Poetry
March 2021


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