Through the gates (bonus)
Scurrying through my mind’s enveloping dark,
I clasp reason; smokey above and smokey below.
Whoosh! Whoosh! Accompany my passing,
“To the gates! To the gates!” A whisper a-side,
“Decision, make it now, no time! No better time!”
The dark is full, I scurry through; my mind is full.
“To the paths! The brown paths!” Another cry,
“The paths of choice, the paths with light!”
Whoosh! Whoosh! Acknowledge my passing,
“You shall wait! To the gates, you shall get!”
That side, I trust, and try I will, though hard.
I clasp hope; smokey above, and smokey below,
‘Come upon the gates, and, o’, the paths…
The paths so bright, o’, so, with possibilities.
The gates fling open and once, I freeze;
I have seen the light and now I feel lost.
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Benson Langat is a poet, fiction writer, and freelancer. A dreamer, he realizes a world of possibilities through stories and explores life in poetry. Benie is a dad and lives in Nairobi, Kenya.