I could tell you that my Master
is the one who opened the door,
but that would be a lie.
There never was a door,
I was never on the other side.
We were always in this together, he and I.
If you call the realization of this Oneness,
the opening of a door,
then I guess we have the beginning of a very long poem here,
but since I’m in a really good mood today,
I’ll save you the trouble of hacking your way
through a love drunk’s excess of metaphors.
There is no door! Never was, never will be.
The knocking you hear
is only the sound of your own heart beating.
The One for whom it beats has always been with you,
so what’s all this monkey business about a door?