Why Such Keys Were Forged
A blackened ring of iron keys, old and jangly, gifted by a kindly relative
Longing to slide one into a worn, roughhewn door, its splintered planks painted a crumbling crimson,
Encountered somewhere it oughtn’t be
Open it, groaning on ill-used hinges, onto a lush valley
A village glitters at its center
A place of peace and welcome; of hot drinks and cool breezes
Where prosperity isn’t hoarded
Where kindness is casual
Where respect means freedom, and it applies to all
In this place, fires are stoked for warmth, never malice
Stars light an obsidian sky seemingly just for you
The sweet boy at the coffee shop remembers your order
Folks never gossip after you pass by no matter how bright your skirt nor wild your hair
Youth makes fools of us all, a time when one might yearn for wealth or power
But it is pervasive benevolence that makes one rich
So that wise women may escape this place and walk into a better one;
Stepping into a world both gentle and bright is why such keys were forged.