Who is this stranger at my door? If I let you in will you ever go away? This stranger, you bring such sorrow, such loss, such despair, and yet I cling to you like no other. Only you offer me the way through, only you really know what it means to be me now. Only you can bring such pain and offer such solace.
Who is this stranger at my door? Why do you keep coming back, unbidden, always there waiting to be let in? You seem to know more than is possible, as if you have done this a million times before, carried the survivors to the next place, like a ferryman you gently guide me along this river.
Who is this stranger at my door? Can I ever turn you away? I think not. To do so would be to deny what is, so I must invite you in I suppose, although I hate you with all my being, I love you too. I know that I have to love you, or else there is no way forward. You are my only teacher now.
Who is this stranger at my door? Are you Maya, Sam, Esther, Phoenix, all those that have come and gone, all of them in one form? I step back from the threshold and wait, as you enter. You enter my home, my soul, my body, and you are with me now, always. A part of me that I wish I never knew, but cannot shed now, that will be with me forever now, and that I can never change.
Lead me gently, stranger. Lead me on this path. I only know when it began. On that morning in October you banged on my door, wanting to be let in. And each day since, you persist, “let me in, let me in”, you demand. And each day you inch forward, until finally you are embraced, you are here, with me, in me, of me. Always.
Ellis Island, April 2015