by Pavel Chichikov
A man gave me some keys to keep
But for which doors? I saw in sleep
A cottage on a grassy hill
A metaled road beside that fell
Steeply toward a sunny house
Where there were hosts and I was guest
A morning and an afternoon –
But now you must depart, return
The chain of keys that you were loaned
Lent to you and not your own –
Here's a blue one to the sky
Here's a green one to an eye
Here's a white one for the blind
Here's a black one for the mind
Here's a red key to a flame
Hear it burn and speak a name
Out I went, my work not over
And tried the keys in every door
But there were none the keys would fit
Every door I found was shut
Discordant waking, sleep confused
Work unfinished, keys unused
The man, the cottage still unfound
I searched an unfamiliar town
Farther seeming from the start
To find the right key to the heart
Until I saw a portal in
A baby's house, a tiny one
Awake, come in, you need no key
To open this but love for me
Visit Pavel's website at Grey Owl Press.
