Iron curved in vine and bloom
Sunlight hung in quiet room
Gate stood neither closed nor wide
Held its truth by being inside
No demand to prove your right
No command to win the fight
Presence served as only pass
Worth revealed like shining glass
Those who walked with humble stride
Found the gate already wide
Those who forced with hurried cry
Met their gate against the sky
Sacred places do not hide
They respond to honest stride
Approach soft without a plea—
True gates open when you’re free