Monday, April 23, 2018

Rusted gates


     We live our lives looking back to things we would have done differently. It seems to me we apologize under our breath daily if not to just our self. I regret things like most do, but I don’t dwell on what could have been but rather what is. Making mistakes is a part of the growth that we are supposed to accept and at some point, leave behind the apologies and shame of our earlier actions. As I got older I realized we were brought up to do a few things our entire life so the gates of glory would open for us when our time came, but when I got there the gates were rusted shut and nobody manned the post. So, I stood there wondering what now? I couldn’t turn back there was only darkness and an endless black swirling hole.

     Standing at the rusted gate I had all the time I needed to review my life, the good and the bad. I don’t know how long I stood there but, in the end, I had traveled into myself and relived my life in every sense. And then I did it again, and again, and once more, and so on. It was a remembrance I was not being allowed to end and so I stood at the closed gate for a period we know as eternity


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