Love stood knocking at the door

and when I offered silence

he waited, patient, on the stoop

and called my name.

–

Each sally I would feign to make

to leave the door and quiet

the tiny blurt of conscience-prod—

I saw he watched the frame.

–

I turned from him to read the world

through glass of other portals,

but found, in pieces, his reflect

that gently called my name.

–

I shouted out that he should leave,

pursue some other prize

“But I have come to you,” he said

and watched the frame.

–

At last, beWildered by my sate,

wan from want of fulness

I turned, “what would you have?” I asked.

“Call into my name.”

–

Trembling, I unbar the door

Ask Him in, in quiet.

Kindly enters He the house,

embraces all my frame.

–

–

–

Photo by Jan van der Wolf: https://www.pexels.com/photo/shadows-on-stone-wall-with-door-19885834/