Obsession

My greatest flaw

I am obsessed with open doors.

What is waiting,

where could it lead,

what endless sunrise is pouring

through the threshold?

I am driven by need,

and greed,

an incessant desire to know

what salt washed ocean has worn

seashells into dust.

Has frost etched his fingerprint

on the end of season roses?

I must keep moving for what would become

of me if my feet root into the ground?

Sparrows will nest in my hair,

spiders will weave in my ears,

bark will crawl over my winter-chilled

skin, and I must not be still.

I am obsessed with open doors.

Don’t you know there are mountain tops

buried beneath the sea?

Don’t you wonder

where they came from?

Were they ready for the water, when it

crashed over their peaks?

Have you ever considered

the pearlwort?

It paints sunshine across

fields of ice, where no one holds

breath for its bloom.

I must go to it, for what would become

of me if my bones set into place

and my eyes shuttered closed?

My skin will rust and my joints

will harden. Will I grow

accustomed to dark?

I am obsessed with open doors.

I must go through them.

On the other side is

tomorrow and I cannot wait

for it to arrive.

Reviews

[Ted Kniffen]

This is a well written piece that describes that restless feeling a lot of us have. Seeing that opening and stepping through without a second thought as to the outcome. Could be disaster, could be delight. its anyone's guess. Good write, CourtniRenee

[wordman]

a searcher of truth,of times past and what it holds,great write

[barleygirl]

This is a brilliant stream of unexpected & well-expressed questioning. I'm jealous. I've wanted to write a poem about how it's felt all my life being a rolling stone & never committing to a relationship or to children or to a permanent home. This is it. You describe how it feels exactly. Even more than anything I ever thought about, too. There are so many imaginative ponderings here, well-stated with lots of poetic artistry such as personification & playing with word sounds. There isn't one single word here that's flat, unneeded, or forgettable.

This might be one of the most powerful & original things I've ever read about my own rabid craving for freedom:
"I must keep moving for what would become
of me if my feet root into the ground?
Sparrows will nest in my hair,
spiders will weave in my ears,
bark will crawl over my winter-chilled
skin, and I must not be still."

[CourtniRenee]

Thank you so much! This is one that is reflecting a lot of what I'm struggling with right now. I'm in my third year of marriage and I have a seven month old, and sometimes I can feel an itch under my skin to move and see and explore. I never thought I would settle down, but writing has eased a lot of the stress for me.

[barleygirl]

Must be the seven-month itch! (Maybe you're too young to remember the seven-year itch as an old saying & I think it's a Marilyn Monroe movie, too). Anyhow, I have the utmost respect for parents becuz of this one thing alone -- how much must be sacrificed to take on the most important job in the world. I'm in awe & it's cool to get this glimpse inside the pondering inside a committed situation . . . so relatable & true-to-life.