OPEN & SHUT jbearden My life is a maze of doors. As though I am wandering through a labyrinth of dust-filled hallways, so do the twists and turns of my existence seem filled with sudden corners, dead ends, and the occasional, brightly-lit room. And the doors... These hallways are filled with doors, and they open and shut with a mind of their own. What builder, reveling in his insanity, must have constructed this life, this maze that I, yes I, am doomed to follow until a final door opens.. to reveal what? That door is hidden, and what lies beyond is not for mortal eyes to see. But the other doors... Some ornate, some plain, some open archways and some no more than tattered hangings over a hole in the corridor wall. These doors tempt me and taunt me, begging me to enter, yet warning that they may lock once I have passed through. Sometimes I enter an open portal, then turn to find iron gates barring the way back again. Even when the gates are spidery, delicate and covered in gilt, yet I know that my strength, my will is insufficient to open them again. Other doors are invisible, and shut so that I am struck full on when I attempt to pass, unaware of the barrier until it is too late. Behind some doors flows, like life-giving water, the sound of laughter and, perhaps, the smell of some rich fragrance. Yet many of these doors are shut and barred -- and some I close myself, willing myself not to enter. Behind those doors lies death or pain -- or so I believe. The true agony is in sealing them away, knowing that I may have judged the room behind unfairly. More doors seem open now than ever before, yet I begin to close these also: one by one, and some have thorns on the locks. It does not matter. What lies behind must be sealed away. I can only hope... perhaps as I close these, others will open, leading to brighter and less deceiving rooms, and more hallways. Always more hallways. And always, each hall has many doors, open and shut. Open and shut. I pray I only open the right doors, and none of the wrong...