... it seems [to me] there is this threshold gifted with age
[if we're lucky]
it requires a pause, a breath, a shift
a doorway to step across into
dimensions [i call them portals truthfully]
[time after-all is merely our own construct]
dimensions
that smell that feel of other times other places other faces
shrinking expanding diamond facets
where we are young & stupid-silly
unconcerned
innocent
unweighted by now
present not by focus but by being
aware but unaware
unknowingly gathering pennies of worry
unknowingly gathering tokens of gold
traveling traveling thru days
faces of childhood
steeped in reflections of shadows & light
this threshold offers with exception to circumstance & bite
not all are entranced not all desire the shift the pause the breath
but there it is ... still
with age there is this threshold
a doorway to step across
worries & golden tokens
shadows & light
an invitation
rest revise
always there
always here
[time after-all is merely our own construct]
