The door remains locked to me
Until I’ve paid the price to own the key
The room off limits to my sight
Till the open door grants me the right
The house remains a mystery
Until invitation comes to me
It all starts with a simple key
Turning a cylinder that sets me free
So small to hold there in my hand
So big to open what’s really grand
The gate is locked and fast is closed
Restrictive rules strongly imposed
I have this key given in trust
So open the gate, yes I must
The biggest possibilities there are to be
Start with the smallest little key
David Kettler, 4/10/09
This poem is dedicated to my friend Shirley Doolittle who once spoke about the key in a Gospel meeting in Riverside. The thought was that the key is very small but it opens a lock that is bigger than itself. The lock then opens a door that gives access to a room which is part of an even larger house. When I wrote down “key” for my choice of alphabet poem in “K” a lot of these thoughts came back to me.
Until I’ve paid the price to own the key
The room off limits to my sight
Till the open door grants me the right
The house remains a mystery
Until invitation comes to me
It all starts with a simple key
Turning a cylinder that sets me free
So small to hold there in my hand
So big to open what’s really grand
The gate is locked and fast is closed
Restrictive rules strongly imposed
I have this key given in trust
So open the gate, yes I must
The biggest possibilities there are to be
Start with the smallest little key
David Kettler, 4/10/09
This poem is dedicated to my friend Shirley Doolittle who once spoke about the key in a Gospel meeting in Riverside. The thought was that the key is very small but it opens a lock that is bigger than itself. The lock then opens a door that gives access to a room which is part of an even larger house. When I wrote down “key” for my choice of alphabet poem in “K” a lot of these thoughts came back to me.
RSS Feed
