7 Doors

You open the first door.
Children are playing a game.
Their game seems so important.
Everything depends on the outcome.
They keep playing, without any outcome.

You open the next door.
An animal is low and crouching.
It has no home in this world anymore.
It is a messenger from another.
You wait for the message, this is it.

Behind the next, a revolving room of mirrors.
Whichever way you look, there’s only you.
The way you see yourself keeps changing.
This room goes on, it never ends.
When you see nothing, relax.

The next is a swinging door.
It opens with your inhalation.
As you exhale it closes.
Thoughts are extra.
Silence.

At the next, you hesitate.
The part that hesitates gives in.
In the letting go, something relaxes.
Years swim past like multicolored fish.
You are a child again, playing underwater.

Deeper down, there is another door.
If any life had a purpose, it would be here.
You would already be on the other side, playing.
Everything would depend on the outcome.
Everything would be a messenger.

The message is behind the 7th door.
Behind the 7th door, there are more doors.
They keep opening and closing by themselves.
Nobody passes through, not children, not animals.
Fish are circling in mid-air, something pulls you through.