Reflecting

Please bear with me
while I'm still trying to figure out
who and where I am,
and which way to go.

Still searching in the old garden...

There is an old door leading to a forgotten garden.
The door creaks in its hinges, if it ever opens at all.

Sometimes in your life, you walk in the forgotten garden, where plants have withered and bad weeds are running riot, searching for something you think you’ve lost.

It is abandoned, this garden, and the only thing that marks it’s boundaries, the only thing that defines it as a garden, is the wall surrounding it, holding it together, and the door that once led to it’s green splendour.
Where has it all gone?

Opening up

Entering a new year.

I’ve got my defences, yet some spikes have broken off...
Knock on the door.
Who is it?
Be ye friend, I’ll let you in.