There you go again out the front door.

The one you once called your own.

The little blue door on a little winding road

that welcomed you home. Until this morning,

when you closed it and dared to become

someone rare, someone fare, someone who cares

where life might lead. We saved all these years

to give you a chance to learn, to grow, to become

a little more of who you are—more developed,

knowledgeable, and refined. We saved all these years

to give ourselves a chance to learn, to grow, to become

more of what you might need of us when you are less

developed than you deserve, less prepared for the pain

you will suffer in this world, and when you reach your goals

for exploration and find your version of a little blue door

on a little winding road and realize why,

with all the wonders and welcomes you’ve known,

even in joy, you sometimes cry. Life doesn’t stay dry.

The terrarium of your truth isn’t broken. There’s just little light.

The views you’ll remember best are between day and night.