On The Path

Is this the door meant for me to open, this great wooden door painted Prussian blue with Renaissance golden spheres shining from its center? Or is it just another finger pointing to the Moon? Must I live this life until I reach another door, one painted pale yellow, or not painted at all, with no visionary symbol for me to contemplate. Just a simple thing, no handle even, just a vertical panel I push once, and its opens to Glory! There be glory in the end, won't there be glory in the end? I have waited so long, the others are far ahead me, or far behind me. Is it my fate to be so solitary? How much further must I walk to realize in my deepest self: THIS MUCH KNOWLEDGE YIELDS THIS MUCH GRACE?