The Golden Gate Poem by Salil Singh

The Golden Gate



Behold the Golden Gate.

On the first hundred meters of the road that leads to it,
Seventeen foreigners stand apart and shout,
“Thou shalt not pass! ”

It’s a long walk
But the road’s always empty
And the weather’s always good.

Hunger
Thirst
Fatigue
and
Loneliness
are
your only foes
before
The Golden Gate.

Before you set out
The lame will cry
into their braces
As will women
into your faces,
But walk.

If you must,
Fill your pockets with bread
for your hunger
And silly string
for your loneliness
(Or a cat)

A lot of things might happen.
I know,
for instance,
that you will
think.

You might think
That you have died.
You will wake up.
You will blink,
then you will cry.

You will then laugh
Begin to wonder
and stumble
and wander
and sit.

Then you might stand.
You will discover that
your arms and legs are long!
To the gate by sundown
they help you lope along.

Do I catch you
Mumbling to the wind,
“It’s fate”?
The sun has caught you up
You are winded
and cold.

You bundle up and sleep there
Exhausted, right under
The Golden Gate.

Friends!
Fools!
That selfsame sun
will soon be dawning.

Driven oblivious
by your eight hours,
you open your eyes
and
curse that
Gate
next morning.

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