A passage
Once
Engulfed by an invigorating
Sea of pitch
Now transformed
By the ceaseless streaming of sand
To a cavernous crypt
Harassed by light unwelcome
Dank from the runoff
Of stagnant pools
Of thoughts outworn.
Cracks and crevices obscure
A multitude of doors -
          Each with its own black sea
          All but one with their own dank caves.

I search my pockets for clues gathered along the way -
Reclusive bits of knowledge
That burrow deeper to avoid my grasp.
The slow ones I reach
And they unwillingly reveal their prize
Shrinking some doors, enlarging others.
My choice is more limited now
But still unclear.
This is the final choice
And I know I must choose carefully.
I muster all my courage and open a door
Instantly recognizing the fulfilling blackness
Of a thousand other doors I have chosen.
I step forward . . .
          And hope.