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  • Karen L Higgins

Closed Doors


is all around me

as leaves let go,

swirl in the wind

and fall to the ground.

Their brilliant colors

turn drab,

and soon they join the soil

they came from.

I know a leaf

is a 'lifeless' thing,

without a heart and soul.

Yet I wonder,

how did it know

to let go?

Why do some hang on

long after their siblings

have left?

As I find myself

pounding on closed doors,

I wonder,

how do I know when

to give up?

I try to pick the lock, thinking,

how can I surrender

after I've worked so hard?

I beg and plead

for entrance,


Why won't

you open to me?

Have I done

all I can do?

Is it time

to surrender?

Maybe I have been

pounding on the wrong door.

Or perhaps I am just being stubborn.

I kneel

on my broken dreams and plans,


swirling in my head.

There is no easy answer.

No pat phrase

to tell me what to do.

But this I know...

God tells the trees

when to drop their leaves..

And he tells them

when to burst into bud

once more.

Every year.

Without fail.

I step on pine needles

and crunch through frosted leaves

on the forest floor.

If he can guide

a soul-less tree,

he will surely

guide me,

whether through the arduous labor

of pressing on

or the aching hush

of surrender.

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