A door
is just a door.
A gate is
something more.
Concealing.
Revealing.
Separating in
from out.
A door might be humble
or it might be ostentatious,
A gate may be one
or occasionally the other.
Doors are shut, enigmatic,
attempts to keep us out.
Gates welcome February snows
or burning summer sun.
When faced with a door
I may just pass it by.
But with a gate I’m tempted
to see what lies beyond.
Don’t know where
it will take me, gate with road
but that
is where I’ll go.
Erika Bizzarri 
How about windows?
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Now this is a GREAT blog! Love this
>
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Wonderfully poetic way to start my day! You are the Muse of Orvieto!
— David
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Beautiful poem Erika.
Thanks, Mike
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I love the distinction you make between doors and gates! Walking around Rome (and Orvieto) I am always more intrigued by what lies within a gated courtyard than by what lies beyond a closed door, no matter how ornate or imposing. Your observations grow ever more poetic. Thank you, and Happy Martedì Grasso! James II
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Lovely
A Robert Frost feeling to it
❤️
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I enjoyed your musings in this Erika – and you have some marvellous photos!
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Thank you Erika. One of the things that drew me back to Italy after my first visit (via motorcycle) almost 54 years ago, were the doors and the gates. I must have 100 photos of them on my phone and can’t bring myself to delete a single one.
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After James 3 and I listened to this meditation I was reminded of an evocative image from an earlier piece of yours on this topic: “…Sometimes she opened one of the doors in the house of her consciousness….”
Can a door sometimes become a gateway? With your pen in hand, you make anything possible.✍️
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