One condition to be admitted,
One rule to enter.
If you hope for wellness; then proceed.
Tell the truth and do not lie.
I sit outside and stare,
Gazing at the opening and closing of the door.
Some enter sad and exit happy,
Others enter happy and exit sad.
I wonder why, but find no answer.
Babies, teenagers, adults and the elderly.
People of all race and color.
People of all size and shape.
Then it strikes me;
I am not here by choice,
I was forced by circumstance,
Coerced by a power beyond me.
My choice will be to stay away,
But here I am looking but not seeing.
Staring at the bland door.
A door that stands between me and peace, or turmoil.
I am brought back to now
By a touch and a whisper,
“It is your turn,” the voice says
And my heart takes flight as if pursued by the devil.
How I get there I do not know,
But before the door I stand.
Reaching for the knob it opens,
As if by some power unknown.
Surprised I jerk back my hand,
Unnerved I look up to see the “power”.
And lo before me is an elderly man
With laugher in his eyes.
He beckons smiles and stretches out his hand in greeting.
Dazed, my hand moves of its own will
My mouth mutters words in response.
And then my fears begin to evaporate.
As I look at his face I know peace,
As I cross the threshold I know for a fact
By whatever sense not described by science
That whatever the pronouncement it can’t be turmoil.
Then it strikes me,
This is neither a place of judgment nor a place of despair
It is a place for finding the will to live
The consulting room is the place of hope.
Dedicated to Mrs.K , who may never get to read this “reach for the hope that lies within you and God will do the rest”