The Door


Slowly, slowly passed my days
When I was younger; every dawn
Was a rainbowed window on a world unknown,
A wonderland of dreams that seemed my own.

Brightly, brightly shone the nights
While I was growing; light-long years
Between the crimson dusk and every golden dawn
Were filled eternally with hopes newborn.

Rarely, rarely shine those stars
Now I am older; through dark clouds
Heaven's glory moves me more remotely now.
It's growing harder just to feel, somehow.

Lowly, lowly sinks the fire
Now I am ageing; all I've learned
Is the vanity of all we hope or know -
All so important many dreams ago.

Dearly, dearly pass the hours
Now I am dying; dare I go
And leave the world of pain behind me evermore?

My fingers tremble as I touch the door . . . .