It takes more time to open
than it does to shut down. 

Carefully placed booby traps,
intricate locks, antiquated puzzles,
elaborate knots, and tricky riddles,
barring the doors closed.
Taking endless effort and struggle
to make them budge,
to hear even the slightest movement;
A new contraption added
each time the doors have closed. 

But once each obstacle is overcome,
each obstruction torn down,
each layer of barrier disintegrated,
with force and care, the doors
can be opened – with hesitation. 

Either blinded by the light coming through
or soaked by the storm brewing,
uncertainty lies beyond, 
brighter or darker than the last time. 
The backside of the door battered, 
splintered, with peaking opulence. 

Beware the shifting winds
Whether warm or cold, the doors
swing shut like butterfly wings.
The same doors that needed
a tidal wave to be opened,
take barely a breath to close,
a small scare or fear of the unknown
may prepare another barricade
to be put in place when the doors
again decide to, or are slammed shut. 

But when the sun shines bright enough
Or the rain falls hard enough,
those doors stay open, unwilling
to close out the sun or rain.
Because it is more painful to shut down,
Than it is to open up.

T. Marina