Before I was as born, there was a time when we played, played on green hills, walked along the big infinite sea, talked endlessly of this and that.
In the last few weeks I’ve opened the swinging door to, what I thought, could be a nice friendship but… I had to close it again and slide the silver latch across the golden lock forever.
However, before closing the swinging door for good, I unhooked the silver latch and let it hang loosely on the swinging wooden door and let the swinging door have a gentle little swing back and forth, to and fro, open and close.
I think I will leave the swinging door so for a few days, maybe a few hours. If the friendship does not come forth or show me no signs of renewal or, and if its friendship blossoms blow and tumble down to the ground and blow against my stony kitchen floor… then I must, with forceful hands and arms of strength, close the swinging door, slide the silver latch on the golden lock, forevermore.
Days have gone by and the swinging door is still lightly opened, to a mere crack, and tenderly having its little swing, back and forth, to and fro, open and shut. But this time the swinging door has a slight wavering and trembling to it… although it is rocking to the sound of the music I so love.
But tomorrow when the rain has come and gone, then I know that I must shut the door once and for all. The silver latch and the golden lock have conversed with me and together with the stony floor, have told me that it is highly necessary to close the swinging wooden door for good or else the poor kitchen window will suffer needlessly from unwanted non friendly and musty air.
And so, my dear friend, I must heed the call. I would never wish to offend the silver latch and the golden lock for they have often advised me well. So… now I will softly close the swinging door for good and wish my once-upon-a-time friendship a fond farewell.