I am standing at the opened gate,
Sensing the air -
As ancient as the earth itself.
I feel as though my face reflects
from every curving surface,
So that I stare into a thousand of my own eyes;
Each of them is asking:
“Who are you? And what do you bring?”
Dare I pass beneath the keystone?
The holiness within it
Breathes to me;
But am I sensitive enough to feel it?
Humble enough to be its guest?
Loving enough to justify my presence?
Am I here to impose, or to offer?
To take, or to receive?
If to offer, what do I have?
If to receive, then am I ready to surrender?
Do I really deserve to have come this far?
And do I really deserve to continue?
Photo by Wendel Moretti, Pexels