Swarming through the ocean of blacktop, the jaded swim
through one another; creeping toward their purpose,
the eye of their attention focuses solely on the destination.

The vortex of the open door inhales the oblivious
who innately believe the portal is their ultimate goal;
they constrict into a tight mass of twine filing across the threshold.

A few fibers embedded in this cord see solutions
into what may become of the conquering chaos;
nearing the destination, they open another door for others.

And though it may not benefit those who had worked to open,
the new entrance assuages the tempest pulsating against the single door;
disseminating across the crowd, alleviation infects the rest.

What most let sift past in the ease,
how the unnoticed wound does most damage,
seeps through the sea in a mist of confusion:

The open destination is nothing but the opportunity to begin.

 
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