Doors

A door is flung open in front of me–
How long has it been there?
As long as a young eye can see.
The door is frail in the face of blasting winds.
Is that a bad thing? Likely not, it needs no key
To open, but there is no gatekeeper
Walking the path alongside the door, so rickety
That it looks to collapse this moment upon my
Head. All the more reason I should walk in and see
What lies behind, for this moment, the door may close.
To the west, seeming mystical and illusory
I might see a meadow, green and lush
Full of bright and golden opportunity.
So I go that way, if just for a second,
And the door snaps shut behind me.
So now it is up to me to pursue
Another new door of opportunity.
Though this one too may close
With a thud, however gently it perceives itself to be.