Obedience

Poem Collection Obedience I stand before two doors, their paths intertwined behind them. I know not their twist and turns or its end, but my spirit sees their end. Not a clear end, just darkness becoming me... One is a door of Gold, singing of its own accord, speaking to my flesh. The other is of obsidian, its handle a bout of thorns. The knocker a wreath of flame. Its songs were lamentation, crying of the soul, this spoke to my spirit saying "Be obedient." I follow my spirit towards its door. I wrapped my hand around those thorns and let them prick my flesh. The wreath of flame sprang upon me and consumed me. The door of Gold melted in the flames that sprung forth from me, and the door before me changed from obsidian to an array of precious stone. From my hand flowed a river of blood, crying out to the Lord. It flowed under the door and it opens. I do not know where this door shall go, but I will follow it, for Obedience tells me so.