“The doors are closed” someone will say,
“locked and bolted forever that way.
It must be a sign your path is to change.
Look for new rainbows, get out of the rain.
Accept the fact that the doors are for
those
who may have compromised morals –I’m told.”
Yet the heart of an artist with the
highest ideals
will never accept for “whom the bell peals.”
But I do not live in a castle with doors,
with ceilings and locks and hallways and floors
For that is for people who see their fate
as ending their value of life by date
But where others see doors, I only see
mountains,
and atop there is that veritable fountain
I can only look up when I climb to the
top,
though my heart feels it’s
bursting I never shall stop,
For each day when I wake with the “gift
of life”,
I know that I cannot life without strife,
Yet I reach for my hiking shoes covered
with dirt
then with great challenging adventures I flirt.
Let others grow old, but I shall be seen
as that little girl who “pretends to be queen”.
I shall ever be grateful for the gifts He
has given,
and hundreds of miracles poured in from heaven.
I trust my Daddy who gives me His hand,
and leads me through life as my daddy named Sam
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