The Door

 



The Door

The door opens and the door is sure to close.  Nobody goes because nobody knows.  It is why there aren't two too many heroes.  The opportunity is not long and the risk never seems to be brisk as any good endeavor always seems to take forever.  Some think to be clever.  Some think to possess the art of being smart.  Some hear the fear as it echoes in the ear.  Some stand like a frightened deer.  Some stand brave to misbehave and some take the stance for the moment to dance with chance.  Failure can kill you like an avalanche and victory though long in greeting can be quite fleeting.

So there you stare with thoughts of going in there.  You could come upon a pleasant surprise or an unwise demise and therein lies the decision.  What you want is precision but there is no time to sharpen the sword.  Inside is a punishment or perhaps a reward.  You could be knocked backwards or you could move forward.  It is certain that you will fall ill if you stand still.  He who hesitates eternally waits.  He who jumps in a mad dash may unfortunately crash, leaving but the cinder of an ash.  Either you burn or either you learn but you must do what's coming to you to see what could be.  Until then you will never be free.

There are those who could have and those who should have and there are those still scared stiff from wondering what if.  There are no locks when opportunity knocks.  The door squeaks.  The door speaks.  You must decide to open it wide.  Yu must decide to stride with pride.  You must not let your future be denied.  There are those that have tried.  There are those that have cried and there are those that have died.  To live is to see what gives.   What you do is up to you.  Everyone will have an opinion and some would choose to lose rather than be in your shoes but if you win you will have so many friends and there will be more than a few that will say that they always knew while not having a single solitary clue.

Is it in you?  Do you have the faith to face your fate?  Is there too much food on your plate or is there so little that you need a fiddle in the middle of a hospital?  If you don't try you're going to die and if you do death might greet you to defeat you.  It's a chance.  Are you willing to dance?  The wonder will never be put asunder.  Walking through the door could spell victory or a disastrous blunder.  The answer is something  no one's going to yell to tell you!  All the while you were hopin' that the door would open and to your dismay this is the day.

Orrin K. Loftin, Explorer



Copyright?  When opportunity knocks and the door squeaks to speak.

September 28^th, 2013

 

 

Stars Falling on Lita

 

Stars Falling on Lita

Some say that she's a little touched as much and such.  What they don't know is that she is aware and doesn't care.  She loves breathing in the fresh mountain air as she rocks back and forth in her favorite rocking chair.  She's not broken hearted over being mentally retarded to have been disdainfully discarded.  She's free to see into infinity.  She is what she thinks of as she floats with the clouds.  Sometimes she just sits to shout out loud!  Sometimes she's proud.

Some say that she's a little touched as much and such.  Ethereal is her way as ticks by the seconds of each day.  Sometimes she folds her hands as if to pray.  She loves to watch the children play.  The porch is her dock.  The world is her bay.  She travels the gravel on a boat of dreams that splashes down sparkling streams.  Imagination is her destination.  Every breath she takes is one of exhilaration.  For her life is a celebration.  This is why she does not cry.  This is why she does not die.

Some say that she's a little touched as much and such.  Often her hair's a mess and soiled is her dress but she does not protest.  She's not hooked on looks because she knows of the glow of the rainbow that resides inside.  Depression is an enemy that's been successfully denied.  Outside she can be found when the rain comes down.  It rinses away the wrinkles in every frown.  In her chair she sits right there and walks down a smile that stretches for miles.  Around every bend she finds a playful grin.  Around every path she finds a laugh that wiggles as it sniggles.

Some say that she's a little touched as much and such.  Often she is gleaned to be seen to be soaking wet with sweat.  It's because of the great outdoors that she adores.  It profusely pours out of her pores.  It's what she heaves to breathe as she drifts away on a sunlit breeze.  Her spirit is at ease.  Sometimes the dandelions make her sneeze only for her to wipe her nose with the petal of a rose.  Even though sitting she seems to stand to strike a pose.

Some say that she's a little touched as much and such.  What they don't know is that she loves the snow.  Though silent in thought she's poised for noise.  Her pantomime is divine as she moves with peace of mind.  She's an empowered flower that cherishes warm summer showers.  The seconds morph into hours that blend into days as she soaks in the sun's soothing rays.  It's what she does as she heaves to breathe in the fresh mountain air.  You can see her right over there as she rocks back and forth in her favorite rocking chair.  In a blur the stars are falling on her.

Orrin K. Loftin, Explorer

Copyright?  When there's more that's there in a blank stare.

September 13^th, 2013

 

 

 

 

 

 

 



Sun Dance

Sun Dance

Her birth was from mother earth.  Her soul strolls.  To live is her goal.  She is but a flame.  Accurate is her aim.  She will not bid you a warrior's adieu like the others do.  She moves to quickly end a war.  She moves to explore.  She moves like an eagle that soars on the wing.  Some say that she gracefully sings.  Some say that there is a bite in her sting.  Some say to hear her is to fear her.  Others say that it is a blessing to be near her.  All of the warriors endear her.

She doesn't talk much.  She is but the whispering wind.  Those who listen glisten.  Wisdom is the torch that she sets upon the porch.  To be enlightened is not to be frightened for such a way to behave is to be brave.  For her this is the way to see and this is the way to be.  She is but a butterfly.  She is but a bee.  She is the epitome of what it is to be free.  She can see inside of you.  She can see inside of me.

She wears the shroud of being proud but remains humble so as not to stumble.  To treat each other with kindness is to walk without blindness is how she insists that we should persist to exist.  It is the medicine that makes us all well with which to excel.  This is the air that she heaves.  This is the philosophy that she believes.  We are but leaves that blow where fate would have us go but what we do is up to me and is up to you.  Not only is this something that she has taught.  This is something over which she has fought.

To win is to begin again.  To lose is to choose what lesson to use.  Whether there is rain or the sleet of snow to live is to grow.  To live is to know.  To live is to see the straight and narrow of an arrow.  She says that this is what composes the writer and that this is what composes the fighter who dares to share about things that he cares.  It requires little effort to be aware of what's out there.  To see is to be and so goes the butterfly and so goes the bee.  Life is such a beautiful soliloquy whose words should be heard.  This is how she talks.  This is how she walks.

Her birth was from mother earth.  She has grown to lead a life of her own.  She is a warrior who fights with insight.  See makes for such a beautiful sight.  To see is to be like a bee.  To fly is to understand a butterfly.  To be brave is how to behave.  To know is to grow.  This is what she heaves.  This is what she believes as she points to the leaves that drift in the breeze.  Some fear her.  Others endear her.  I just enjoy being near her.  It's my chance to see the sun dance.

Orrin K. Loftin, Explorer

Copyright?  When you see her you come to know the glow of a beautiful rainbow.

September 8^th, 2013