OLD MAN PASSING THROUGH A DOORWAY
I’m looking for that place inside you
where everything passes through you,
where you’re like the rain,
giving and receiving at the same time
as you pass on to new identities—
that place where fate and destiny are one
and nothing is required.
I’m looking for that moment’s stillness
where everything becomes crystal clear
and you see yourself as from a distant hill
or a star, everything in perspective,
the good and the bad balanced and the same,
all the moments of your life leading to this moment,
then spreading out from it in perfect order,
no questions asked.
I’m looking for that time that is all time
condensed into a single moment
then spreading out in all directions infinitely
like a stone dropped into the water.
I’m searching my mortality from end to end
for just that place, having sought it in the stars too long.
I watch an old man hobble to the door bent sideways,
each step an infinity,
then pause in the doorway to gaze into the next room,
a common place but a wonder to him.
I would move into each moment of my life
as totally engrossed as he is,
bending to the weight of the planet then flowing with it.
Watching this old man pass through a doorway,
I am all men passing into the next moment.
The light from the doorway haloes the bent head
and for this moment, I’ve found what I am seeking.
—Albert Huffstickler, from Walking Wounded
Art by René Magritte – L’embellie
