Sunday, May 23, 2010

The Knock (Poem)

I heard a little voice whispering in the dark.

A knock started to be heard,

Knocking, knocking, knocking at the door.

I went to see who was there and looked out the window,

A stranger in the dark was standing at the door.

An intensity that I had not known before came pounding at my heart.

The beating, the silence, was more than I could handle.

My ears had not known the sound that was before me,

A sound so there, but not, that held me into place.

A knocking, knocking, knocking came pounding at my door,

To be opened by someone that I had not known before.

I heard a little voice whispering in the dark,

Whispering a thought that I had not thought of before.

I think, I thought, I winced, I wept.

I heard a little knocking, a knocking at my door.

I went to see who was there.

Tap, tap, tap, a knocking at the door,

I looked out the window and saw that man.

The man who seemed to be behind everything that was bad.

That man who made the hairs on my neck stand straight with fear.

That night I heard a voice,

Whispering in the dark,

I covered my ears, and walked away.

The strangers voice left my ears.

The knocking at the door slowly faded away.

A tiny light shimmered near the corner of the wall.

I closed my eyes, covered my ears and whispered something to no one.

That night, I heard the voice whispering and the knocking at the door.

I walked away to be with myself.

I knew the truth.

The truth knew me.

The little voice I thought I heard silenced itself.

The knocking, knocking, knocking at my door was done.

I went to my knees and said a prayer that night.

I heard a strong voice pronounce deeply that I was his,

The feeling stayed, the comfort contented, and after that I left to meet my maker.

Erica M. Kadrmas
March 10, 2006

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