Cat Door
and not where you look for it at all,
—an opening
just wide enough
to slip through.
It takes courage to bend so low,
make yourself small enough to fit,
taking with you only what you need.
Leaving the rest behind is not as hard
as you once thought,
and you travel lighter this way,
out past the door,
and its many curtained windows,
reflecting.
Outside are many passages,
corridors unknown,
so you need swift feet,
surest feet,
to follow twists and turnings,
till you come at last
to where it’s safe,
and you are known
for who you truly are,
where you can let your voice
sing free.
You may remember that door
you have not closed
as much as slipped through,
wonder if you will find it once again,
on a path that leads
not backwards but ahead,
becomes wider, smoother underfoot,
opening to things you need to see,
frame clearly in your sharpest lens;
So when you return,
you stand tall
as you need to be
to open that door
wide.