We All Have Walls
see at https://www.theprose.com/challenge/3593
We all have our walls.
Some of us let one wall drop, revealing our audiences.
Some of us let two walls drop, allowing opposites in, demanding we choose.
Some of us let three walls drop and think we can hide behind the one remaining.
When some of us let all four drop, what our walls have heard is no longer secretive and we're exposed, for better or for worse.
Those who let no walls drop are doomed to pace relentlessly, getting nowhere, within windowless, door-less constraints.
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Follow-Up: New Walls
Some walls drop and some remain
Some in ruins and some in pain
Labyrinthine passages direct me onward
Byzantine battering reroutes me forward
My box grows walls in whatever direction
Fibonacci calls, by whatever'y reflection
Grant myself light from windows in my walls
Plant my self-sight of hallowed births en caul
Comparison
My first piece here on theprose.com (July 2016) was the above, "We All Have Walls."
See at https://www.theprose.com/challenge/3593.
The follow-up, written seven years later (December 7, 2023), reflects on how the world is not so simple and not so much all about me. We are not performing for an audience, but are growing by the applause or, alternatively, the tomatoes thrown at us. At some point, we see the light through the previously obstructing walls and will be fulfilled (have sight of the hallowed births) — births of your self-actualization through the prophecy ("born with the caul") of what you see when seeking the righteous way.