Behind my Door

Yes, I live in darkness.
I know the light is out there, and is bursting, but I stay in here. I will not open the door.

I live alone.
Not of fear, but one of comfort, as I know how I will wake tomorrow and the passing of my day.
I am not afraid of the bullies on your telly or the horrible news you will read.

I listen to the winds, and the birds, and the seasons. 
I smile in the saneness and sameness of my life.

The song of the Redbirds in spring, the lightning of summer, the peace of drifting leaves in fall, the surreal silence of snowflakes in winter are mine.

In my dreams, I have people who love me, who touch me, who listen to what I say.

But, when I wake, I see only my walls, my animals, my insects, and feel my peace.
You fear tomorrow, as so much you hear is doom and gloom. I hear none of that.

I feel sorrow for you in the light.

You should join me, in the dark, in the quiet, without the sounds that sicken your soul.

My world has sounds of nature. You have the cacophony of beeps, squeals of sounds, depressions on your soul.

Peace of heart, peace of sound, peace of mind.

This is what I have, what I am, behind my door.

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