“My heart holds rooms”
My heart holds rooms I’ve never entered
doors concealed, secret entrances
sudden corners turning to knobs without keys —
O, some chambers I know familiar
favourite window seats, corner desks, comfort stations
boudoirs of great pleasure
and sacred crypts, twilight zones, forbidding cells
dread dungeons deep under dreams—
but I’ve also danced and flown through octagonal halls, their slanting light
and played the cantor down glass staircases—
but those other places, the guessed at
the undiscovered, the unexplored
the mysteries of the curious heart—
are they the promised portals
to the mansions of His Father’s House?
(c) John Robert Lee 2011
Photo "Personal" (c) John Robert Lee
