A hundred doors to choose,
but only one is yours.
The door to the room that
houses, the hundred doors or more.
A picture of yarrow,
growing beside a burnt fallen tree.
What door opens, what do you see?
Life and death, dark and light,
nature and nurture, wrong or right.
The arrow from yarrow,
shoots in the sky.
Watch it burn and splinter,
in the sun as it floats by.
It’ll light up every room,
to the house that houses,
a hundred or more,
All you have to do is open, open that one door.