Keys Poem by shimon weinroth

icons of property, doorways and answers
passwords and locks, dividing, seperating,
with-holding and secretive, cryptic and coded,
pocketed and hidden, have the powerful,
magic to open and close,

born in suspicion, are fences of privacy,
I often gaze at the heaven in search
of the key to divinity, gaze at your smile,
hope to open your heart,
ponder the fears of mortality,

with sciences of reality, Rosseta Stone
key to languages and ancient past,
I muse 'like the fool on the hill, who sees
the sun going down' needs no keys
to discern sunset and sunrise,
without icons of sublime,

dreams fenceless and and unlocked,
float above the clouds,
where all the keys lie rusting,
in junkyards of distrust,
come with me to lie among,

the meadows of sweet thoughts,
unfettered unchained, divorced,
of material garbage and waste,
in the new millenium of good will
and love, naive and utopian