Leave the door open
and the forest comes in.
Redwoods and beeches,
all destined to win.
Each house on the street
will be green as can be
because the door opened
enough to feel free.

Leave the door open.
There's no way to stop it.
Things will need shifting
without any profit.
How can we hold
every branch to its word
when coins of the realm
flow as swift as a bird?

Leave the door open
and truth will rush out,
and those who are watching
will give a great shout.
The trees will be dancing,
they've nothing to prove.
With their roots on the surface,
they're ready to move.

Leave the door open.
As time passes by,
the fields that are empty
and bare to the sky,
will come to accept
the return of the throng,
who shift with the currents
by shadow and song.

Leave the door open.
It should never have closed.
All the money and power
are far less than supposed.
Now the wealth is outside
as it waits for its turn,
and there's never enough
of good timber to burn.

So leave the door open,
let the carpet roll out
as green as the forest
we see all about.
Let the wind take the seeds
by night and by day.
If we open the door
it will soon find its way.

(with thanks to Sonya Connors)


Click the link below to read more about the poet
More about Mark

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