That locked door is my head

It's imagery used a lot in films. A window-less room. A leaky,dripping faucet and a bucket in one corner. A dim bulb, maybe low wattage, maybe dirty, maybe both flickers from the center of the room's ceiling.

Yours could be one with cherry blossom or rainbow wallpapers. But it's still a window-less room.

This is where you hide, where you file and store. This is where you shudder, where you giggle, where you laugh your evil villain laugh and press the red button. This is where you are the heroes of song and of prose, brandishing your broadsword in defense of all that is right and good. This is the place that saved the world in King's Dreamcatcher.

Many along the path of your life will try to knock and take a peek, a gander. You will mostly refuse as permission granted to the wrong souls is guaranteed death. Death of your psyche, of your lyrical soul, of your magical essence, and then your breath.

Then there is one, that will sit outside that door. Quiet and patient. Through the pouring rain and the thunder and lightning that accompanies it. Through sleet and snow, through baking heat and sandstorms. Not asking to be let in, only happy to see you when you emerge and greet you with a smile. You'll then find a strength of purpose and trust never there prior.

Your hand open with that persons keys to that room. And the other persons hand open with your key in their palm. After that, can you really ever be afraid again?

May that hold true for all of us.

Sent from my BlackBerry® wireless handheld