I am just a doorman,
brought here from
another place and time.
But I am bodhisattva stubborn
to my task at hand,
as just a doorman.
The building is invisible
to which I attend.
But every now and then,
one being,
that comes and goes,
appears.
Says what he says
and does what he does.
And disappears,
right then.
People come by
and ask me things
as if I were that being.
But I am just a doorman.
I don’t know his whereabouts.
But I will relay the message,
next time I see him.
Maybe he will make a response.
If so, I will pass it on.
And so it goes.
The building is still invisible,
to all it seems.
It’s actually a community,
a metropolis of oneness,
where we all really live.
Yet still invisible,
but not to me . . .
For now,
I am soul bound
to be a doorman.
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