The Manifest Doors — #TDWC

Posted on by Teagan Riordain Geneviene

Sunday, May 18, 2025

by Teagan via Playground

Welcome, to my humble sanctuary.  This is not a poem — I don’t write poetry.  Maybe a rhyme or if I put my mind to it, an occasional limerick, but I wouldn’t even know how to begin a proper poem.  It’s not a story either…  It just is what it is.  However, one thing that it certainly is, is something for Dan Antion’s Thursday Doors Writing Challenge.   Today’s door was submitted by Brian, aka Bushboy.  The following popped into my head this morning, while I was giving the Scoobies their breakfast.  I decided to finish it up and share.

The Manifest Doors

Old Pullens Door Grafton by Brian_Bushboy 2024
Old Pullens Door, Grafton, Australia, Brian at Bushboy Photography 2024

Isolated, I stood tiny in the vastness of the cosmos.

Alone — or almost so, only vaguely aware of the ephemeral presence of my guide.

Battered, the door was attached to neither building nor wall.  It simply was.  And it was in every direction that I turned.

“Where does it go?  Why is it everywhere?” I murmured to no one in particular.

“It’s the past,” my guide replied softly.  “So, it’s always there.  Everywhere.  Every-when.  There have been other doors.  Yet you were always brought again to this one.”

Distraught, I could not understand why.

Defeated, out of ideas, how could I escape the fate that I’d had so little part in making?

“Why?” wearily I asked.  “I’ve opened other doors.  Some were charming.  Others were gleaming gold.  Yet once inside, eventually I come to desolation, ending up at the same weathered door.  I find myself here again… and again.”

Image collage by Teagan

Sage, my guide nodded.

Patient, yet too knowing to communicate all, my guide surprised me with the plain answer.

“You didn’t wish it.  You had no hand in the creation of your past, but it will forever be there.”

Hopeless, I knew that fate was truth.

Bombarded, memories and danger pounded my mind.  Their carousel was without end.

“WHY?” I demanded.

“You manifest it,” whispered my guide.  “With every memory.  With each thought that you can’t control, you beckon the door to return.  Whatever door you enter, you will end here, facing this one.

Until you are able to bar it forever, you will manifest it again… and again.”

“HOW?” I exclaimed, voice echoing throughout the cosmos.  “When I didn’t cause it.  When I never wished it.  When no one can control the memories that create their thoughts — how do I manifest a door that leads to other than here?”

Alone, my guide was gone.

Puzzling, flickering, distant across the cosmos…

Was that a different door?

Altered CGI by Teagan via Playground
Altered image by Teagan via Playground
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The end.

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I’m glad that something guided you here to this strange stop in the cosmos.  Wishing you a brilliant new week.  Friendly comments are welcome.  Thanks for opening this door.  Hugs!

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Naturally, the obligatory shameless self-promotion must be included.

The Alchemist and the Woman in Trousers:
A Cornelis Drebbel Adventure

Kindle:  relinks.me/B0F1KWXJ5P

Paperback:  relinks.me/B0F1KVQGFR

This post is part of Dan Antion 5th Annual Thursday Doors Writing Challenge (TDWC). Click the blue link for more information about the challenge and how to showcase your stories.)  Fortunately for me, Dan’s rules for the writing challenge are wonderfully flexible and include any sort of creativity. 

♣ ♣ ♣

This post is part of Dan Antion 5th Annual Thursday Doors Writing Challenge (TDWC). Click the blue link for more information about the challenge and how to showcase your stories.)  Fortunately for me, Dan’s rules for the writing challenge are wonderfully flexible and include any sort of creativity. 

No part of this work may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission.  Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights.

All images are either the property of the author, or used with permission, or from free sources.

Copyright © 2025 by Teagan Ríordáin Geneviene

All rights reserved.

62 thoughts on “The Manifest Doors — #TDWC”

  1. I don’t write poetry either, Teagan. Wouldn’t even know where to begin, but I admire people who have that talent. I loved what you wrote – it gives me some ideas.

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  2. Teagan, this is one of the best poems I’ve read all week. What a rebirth! When I got to the last door, goosebumps appeared, and I felt the magic of the new beginning (door)! Thanks for sharing your magic. 💖

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  6. This reminds me of the old saying “wherever you go, there you are.” It is so true that parts of our pasts were not of our doing and yet we must live with them through that tiring door. You ask the eternal question: why? I like the way you used the door to open to this very human struggle.

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    1. Hi, Maureen. The idea of a door that isn’t connected to any wall has showed up in several things I’ve written over the years. Having seen similar in many artworks in recent years, I believe it has some unconscious, inexpressible meaning to the human species. LOL, but as with “Why?” the “what?” of it is not easily explained.

      Sorry for the pondering reply. I’m not sure if this means I’ve had too much coffee — or not enough! 🙂 At any rate, I’m happy you enjoyed it. Hugs.

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  7. A piece that inspires philosophical thinking, of how we might change our thinking. Are our brains cement, or flexible like clay? The last sentence of the piece opens possibilities, and I love that 🌞

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    1. Thanks very much, Dave. LOL, yeah… I couldn’t bear the thought that there might not be another door out there somewhere — even if it winds up leading to the same place. There’s that part that still must try. Anyhow, when this piece popped into my head, the fact that it arrived fully formed made me feel I had to share it. Hugs.

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  11. This is brilliant Teagan, I call it prosetry and you have written a great conversation and journey….you escaped your past eventually…. found the new door but lost your guide?

    It just goes to show you can’t have it all 💜🥳

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    1. Thanks very much, Willow. Prosetry is a fabulous word. 😀
      Weelll… no. But you’ve pointed out one of my favorite things about writing or reading — a single story can mean different things to different people. I love that! Years ago the subject of The Belgariad series by David Eddings came up with a coworker. He fervently said he hated it. Surprised, I asked why. “All of those characters are such awful people!” I thought his reaction was wonderful because I had such a different take on the series. The characters were outrageous in a way that made them funny. “I guess I should read it again,” he grumbled.
      I shrugged and said “Why?” and explained that what I just said about people getting different things from stories. Thanks for reading and commenting. Hugs.

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  12. I am not one for writing poetry either, but this is something else. It is very deep and it has a dream-like quality that makes it almost hypnotic. Thanks for sharing it with us, and for the images as well, Teagan. Big hugs and love to the Scoobies.

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    1. Thank you so much, Brian. And thanks for contributing inspiration doors to the challenge. I’ve toyed with the other two you submitted. The one with the cherubs on either side of the door has a story in my head that belongs to the Saffron H. Olmes character I created last year for the Yellow Door, but that’s a more time-consuming idea, and it might not happen. This weathered door, sparked whatever it is that I wrote here today. Hugs.

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  17. I like this a lot, Teagan. There is wisdom in here, and you sneaked it in when we weren’t looking. A good cross between “I can’t stop reading and thinking about the person in the story” and “I should be paying attention to this.” Well done.

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  21. This is a fantabulous poem, Teagan.. With your imagination and intelligence, maybe in a dream, you will find the door that does not circle back. Hope that event will be a glorious as the door in the image you have created.

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        1. No worries. I have ongoing Internet issues, and I know that you’ve had more than your share too. It’s hard to keep up with anyone.

          Yes, I still grieve Crystal’s death, but “the Scoobies” (since they’re named for the girls on the Scooby-Doo Where Are You cartoon) have made their place in my heart. They give me reason to keep going. Take care.

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