There's something about an old wood door --
ornate (but on some humdrum street)
that makes one wonder if it's more
than its neighbors -- something offbeat:
Perhaps, a portal into Hell,
a Speakeasy of unknown vice,
a smelly cheese smuggling cartel,
a school for wizards, imprecise.
![Photograph of a gate at Kothi Gulistan-i-Eram [कोठी गुलिस्तान-ए-इरम] in Lucknow, Madhya Pradesh, India.](https://berniegourley.com/wp-content/uploads/2026/01/img_7619.jpg)
A Wall -- one may love or hate.
But picture one without a gate.
It is our ever-present fate
to need to see from either side.
I love a little door to nowhere, with no apparent reason to be. Not under a sign or in the square, but in a privy wall or thick tree. Somewhere one would least expect a door. Somewhere that begs the question: "Where to?" A place for mean rogues, scamps and whores? A hideaway that offers no clue. It would probably just disappoint: to learn the sanctum's private intrigues. Not some tough, sleazy speakeasy joint, or bohemian savants' league. And so, I never, ever knock, but let the story form in my mind - a tale to titillate and shock, one that leaves no misanthrope behind.
I dreamt the door looked out upon treetops and I could walk out on blue sky and cloud and see the world as would a tall cyclops. I dreamt the door looked out upon treetops, but in my dream I plunged into the copse. Sky walking proved more dream than was allowed. I dreamt the door looked out upon treetops, but could I walk out to blue sky and cloud?
Taken in Hungary in December 2016
Kochi (Cochin), India
Kochi, India
Whenever I come across a little, unlabeled door in a place where it seems to have no business being, I can’t help but take a picture. I’ve got quite a collection of such pics, of which I present a sample.
Maybe I watched “The Matrix” too many times, but I can’t help but wonder.
Tiger Riding for Beginners 