VANILLA, CHOCOLATE AND A THOUSAND DOORS
It’s a process,
constantly adapting
every day
We are witness
to a maturing filter,
with tendency translated
by varied strokes
This winding,
waffle-cut canal,
guides the ego
through vast cavities
of the mind
Early views are ample
and in random order,
as youthful thoughts
spill scattered
like loose change
on a kitchen table
Adolescents converse
without concern,
naive to context
and the weight
of spoken language
Older now,
concepts swell
like injured limbs-
a result of society's
jagged flow
During this stage
we still carelessly emote,
as quick bolts
strike sharp notes
in changing scenes
We learn by failure
where success
may truly lie,
still lacking the perspective
for convictions
to compel belief
As years mount
poise permits
refined feelings
to flow through,
forging intellect
now elaborate in form
In simpler times
it was vanilla or chocolate,
but now you’re in a room
with a thousand doors
From lengthy trials
of testing attractions,
values mature
and sustain for survival
Complex issues
launch gauntlets
for sound verdict,
a digestion method
from open eyes
to a tempered heart
Gaping pathways
are now pinholes
in the mind’s fabric,
shielding essentials
from disruptions of progress
At faint points
our movement
changes course,
as impulse drives strides
for longevity
New circles merge
as others break apart,
while the reality
of circumstance
calls for resilience
to arise
Strength shown
declines slow
but persistent,
leaving only pride
and past actions
to repel collisions ahead
Once again
our options are limited,
now bypassing rooms
with a thousand doors,
to decide between
vanilla or chocolate