I live in a doorway
Like everyone else
But my doorway is of my own creation
It's made of words and wonderings
Writings and reality
Fantasy and fact

My writings are my other world
My stories and my fancy
Full of fire and feeling
Just as real to me
As any other world

Soft and certain
And yet still unsure
But happening slow enough
To still be understood

Don't get me wrong,
Life is wonderful
But can be cruel and harsh
Too quick and slicing at times
While other times happy
And whole
Beautiful blending of feeling and love
One creates emotion
One is for emotion to be poured into

Which is best?
Bright and beautiful yet bitter and bland
Or soft, slow, sad but
Only when I wish it to be
Perhaps it is better
To keep one foot in one world
Yet one in another
To keep an even balance
Of reality and Rembrandt painted freedom
For that is my doorway
That I stand in forever
For always

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