Possibilities

Mind fills with a labyrinth of corridor images,
which way to turn?
One leads to the closet of screaming, zombie cannibals of regret
while another to a cemetery
or perhaps a Neverland of jeweled breath and fancy's inhaled treasure.

Roses sprout in the stomach and blossom as fragrances of confidence,
sometimes wilting, others turning to the compose heap death of fear.

But then there are the times of rainbow magic
leaving one's insides, glow with brass ring ecstasy
when one knows with such intense certainty
one door along the walkway of deepest confrontation
will open to the place where you face your own destiny.

Turning the doorknob, fighting the gnawing doubts,
is the only way to find out what truly brings a face
beyond the barriers we see with speculative souls.