Open Doors

Lori McCray
1 min readSep 25, 2023

One plant flourishes, another plant dies.

In the same house. The same light. The

same love. I don’t know why. Too much

water? Not enough? Who can say?

When I was young (so imperious), I

demanded my questions have answers.

Why was a vision quest up Mt. Olympus.

I will know the truth and be free to rest

easy. It will all make sense to me. I might

finally find relief (so naive).

It does help to know the truth. It lightens

the burden of darkness, but it comes as it

will, not by demand or decree or stubborn

insistence. Rilke’s “Live the questions” is

so beautifully poetic, so mesmerizingly

profound, one forgets the sheer impossibility

of his advice. And yet, what choice do we have?

We want to know why with a holy passion,

refusing to go on without an answer and so we

sit, languishing, pure water turning squalid.

Pure love turning bitter, heartless, hateful.

There are things we don’t know, may never

know. Don’t waste time and energy banging

on doors that won’t open. Walk on. Keep

what you know close beside you, like a beloved

friend and seek out the doors which invite,

admit, swing out wide to welcome you.

LBM 9/25/2023

Our diningroom is doorless

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Lori McCray

Photographer, Poet, Musician, Mother, Mystic, Gardener, friend of wild creatures, swan whisperer. Find me on Flickr: https://www.flickr.com/photos/wingthing/