Poem: Threshold

We stand at a portal,
doorways to possibility
but the threshold is daunting.
Some doors are plain,
you pass without a second thought.
Others make you pause,
stand and behold the architecture,
it’s a big thing.

But this door closes shut
once you enter –
there’s no going back.
The room is so different,
high and spacious
and suffused with so much light and incense
you will wonder why you stayed
so long outside

copyright Francis Barker 2019

Christianity – Doors to Eternity

At times you can almost see the individuals, a bit like ghosts, who would once regularly use this door.

How would the local accent have sounded then, say in 1500? Would I have understood them? More to the point, would they understand me? I doubt it, but I have a liking for old church doors.

This north facing example bears all the marks of being very old, probably late medieval, but I could be wrong. Look

at the tracery… perpendicular style?

We stand at a portal, doorways to possibility but the threshold is daunting. Some doors are plain, you pass without a second thought. Others make you pause, stand and behold the architecture, it’s a big thing.

But this door closes shut once you enter – there’s no going back. The room is so different, high and spacious and suffused with so much light and incense you will wonder why you stayed so long outside

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At times you can almost see the individuals, a bit like ghosts, who would once regularly use this door.

Rate this:

Share this:

We stand at a portal,
doorways to possibility
but the threshold is daunting.
Some doors are plain,
you pass without a second thought.
Others make you pause,
stand and behold the architecture,
it’s a big thing.

But this door closes shut
once you enter –
there’s no going back.
The room is so different,
high and spacious
and suffused with so much light and incense
you will wonder why you stayed
so long outside