We slip through the portal,
sliced spaces where light slips in
and invisible markers only we see
beckon to follow through
to the next stage.
We peer in like timid deer
watchful and wondering what we shall find
in new and wondrous places
some seen lifetimes ago,
but merely forgotten
in the shadows of our tired minds.
We see the images before us
like children playing we long to join in
ring around the rosie
wondering what happened to the pocket full of posies,
when the ashes often seem to keep falling down
we blow them away like dried dandelions
clearing the way for better dreams to come
and the expectation
for a romp in the sun
in the places where surf meets sand
and angels are created
with thoughts and a yearning
for a playdate with a memory
of yesterday.