I don't remember having a dream
Where making choices could wake me up
My shaking hand slowly reaches out to the silver knob
The other is clutching my horrified heart
I can't tell what's on the other side of the door
But I am willing to keep going on
The door slowly opens and I can see a light
An empty forest with the sun glowing on a golden harp
A beautiful harp such as this glows in a warm light
I walk up to it and seen its pure form
Though I never played a harp before
Strumming the highest string sounded like a harmony
Something inside me told me that life will be full of doors
Each of them containing something that we may not have seen before
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem