Knock knock goes the ego
as I sit floating in a calm sea of being
knock knock again; I remain in the chair
“Ignore it” says the voice of inner knowing
quiet whispers, quiet whispers.
Knock knock again insistent is this ego
wanting to come in, join the party
Louder still and the door vibrates
oh to shut it up
this banging this intrusion in my life.
A pause and silence is restored
I regain my equilibrium, feel calm again
a mellowing acceptance in this room of old age
laugh lines on the ceiling, evermore threadbare
windows to the soul misty, dust laden.
Walls less sturdy than before
the room cluttered with memories
some easier to find than others
in the boxes of the past
piled high one on top of the other.
Knock knock again the sound fills the room
stubborn, urgent ego sounds, anxious to be heard
Let me in, I want to be heard, I must be heard
Walk to the door, and reach for the handle
No says the spirit, no says the soul
Leave it, keep the door closed.
Open Up calls the Ego, knocking knocking
spirit says closed, do not answer.
I am trapped, pulled in two
voices in my head, open, close, open, close
knocking, knocking
where to go, where to go
surely there must be another door
for me here.
Knock knock, “May I come in?”
and the door of death creaks, begins to open
welcoming, welcoming.
Malcolm Davidson March 14th 2014
Mar 29, 2014
Mar 29, 2014 at 12:24 PM UTC
Knock knock goes the ego
as I sit floating in a calm sea of being
knock knock again; I remain in the chair
“Ignore it” says the voice of inner knowing
quiet whispers, quiet whispers.
Knock knock again insistent is this ego
wanting to come in, join the party
Louder still and the door vibrates
oh to shut it up
this banging this intrusion in my life.
A pause and silence is restored
I regain my equilibrium, feel calm again
a mellowing acceptance in this room of old age
laugh lines on the ceiling, evermore threadbare
windows to the soul misty, dust laden.
Walls less sturdy than before
the room cluttered with memories
some easier to find than others
in the boxes of the past
piled high one on top of the other.
Knock knock again the sound fills the room
stubborn, urgent ego sounds, anxious to be heard
Let me in, I want to be heard, I must be heard
Walk to the door, and reach for the handle
No says the spirit, no says the soul
Leave it, keep the door closed.
Open Up calls the Ego, knocking knocking
spirit says closed, do not answer.
I am trapped, pulled in two
voices in my head, open, close, open, close
knocking, knocking
where to go, where to go
surely there must be another door
for me here.
Knock knock, “May I come in?”
and the door of death creaks, begins to open
welcoming, welcoming.
Malcolm Davidson March 14th 2014