Saturday, April 22, 2017


I stand at the familiar doorway
I'd entered so often
But something holds me back
In nervous excitement.

Within this threshold lie
Not only thoughts I owned
They also hold the happy ties,
Some remain; and some not anymore.

In these rooms I'd played
And shared my toys with friends.
And sometimes sat alone
With myself as my friend.

Inside, I know, nothing's gone,
Nor anything replaced,
And I don't know why I hesitate
To enter this happy place?

The home unchanged
The rooms unchanged
The toys and games unchanged.
What stills my hand upon the key
 is the thought,
Am I the same?


AtomicGitten said...

And the house reaches out and pulls you in :)
Welcome back :D

Materialmom said...

Thank you.

squinted said...

Do you know what were you to begin with? This is another doorway, though unfamiliar.

Materialmom said...

Hi Reader ( calling you 'squinted' sounds like I am abusing you).

Your question is profound. And isn't that supposed to be the purpose of life?- to find oneself. Do we ever?

Though all I meant to say was that time and life questions or even proves wrong one's beliefs, priorities, value system; and this affects you. So writing again or even reading what you'd written before can be daunting. With an unfamiliar doorway, the slate is clean; but not for long, hopefully :)