“The purpose of poetry is to
remind us
how difficult it is to remain
just one person,
for our house is open, there are
no keys in the doors,
and invisible guests come in and
out at will.” ~ Czeslaw Milosz, ars poetica?carmik
~~~~ **** ~~~~
There are no keys in the doors, you have to go looking for
them. They will not be in the usual places, beneath seat cushions or placed
neatly by the bedside table. They cannot be found within the usual places, they
bury themselves beneath your doubts, replace the truths you’ve been searching
for with nothing more than rusted wisdom.
There are no keys in the doors, there is no need to lock
them here. Everything comes in and comes out willing the resident to remain
where they are. There is no exit, there is no entrance to this place. The
purpose may be found within, but the absence of keys reminds us there is
nothing hidden.
There are no keys in the doors, everything is open,
everything is exposed.
There are no secrets behind closed doors, everything is
open, everything is exposed.
There are no refuges beyond the doors, everything is open,
everything is exposed.
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