Only the door
stands now.

The house has to be imagined

Open
&
closed

to this grey Connemara weather

open
&
closed
now

to both Past & Future.

Only a bird

ignoring the vastness of a sky
(so big it could be a metaphor for a God)

dares to fly
through its eternity.

Its flight
like a thin thread threaded through

the eye
of its needle

The door
gasps.

I, with faltering
footsteps follow

the bird

& step through

into forever.

Dónall Dempsey

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/doorway/