Often my dogs lie
at the front door
and stare longingly
at the world
through the windowpane.
They can see clearly
freedom,
sunshine,
wide open spaces
outside.

It seems to be
right within reach,
yet something impenetrable
is in their way,
the nature of which
they cannot comprehend.

The mechanics of door-opening
is a deep mystery to them,
but they display great versatility
in their efforts to solve this dilemma.

Sometimes they jump
up and down,
yapping and wagging their tails,
as if impatience will make the door
open quicker.

At other times they resort
to aggressive tactics,
clawing at the handle
or digging under the sill
to force their way out.

Occasionally
they lie patiently,
having faith
that the door is destined
to swing open
sooner or later.

Now and then they behave
as if there is no door,
having convinced themselves
they are outside already.

Once in a while
they shrink back in fear
when the door is unlocked,
so accustomed have they become
to being captive.

Aren’t we all like them in a way?
Our noses too are pressed
against the closed door
of illusion and ignorance.

Beyond it we can clearly discern
freedom,
joy,
beauty.

Yet some inexplicable force
keeps the access blocked,
and we can only gaze wistfully
at the richness of life
through the windowpain
of our mind.