Only the door
stands now.
The house has to be imagined
Open
&
closed
to this grey Connemara weather
open
&
closed
now
to both Past & Future.
Only a bird
ignoring the vastness of a sky
(so big it could be a metaphor for a God)
dares to fly
through its eternity.
Its flight
like a thin thread threaded through
the eye
of its needle
The door
gasps.
I, with faltering
footsteps follow
the bird
& step through
into forever.
Dónall Dempsey
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/doorway/
