Thursday, February 24, 2011

The Threshold of Change

 Threshold by Kristin Sharpe


   The wind was changing, I knew as I stepped out.  
A well tred path that carried me through my days.  
Seeing only the images in my mind before me, 
I passed blind through the life that surrounded me.  
And then the wind changed, and I looked up.  
The wind changed, and I woke up.  
Looking about me, as for the first time, 
breathing deep like my first breaths. 
I noticed something, and I drew nearer.  
'What thing is this?' I wondered, cautiously moving in.  
It was nothing, but I must look closer.  
I must see what thing it is that draws me.  
Passing off the path, twigs and roots under foot 
crackling softly, almost dreamily, 
like a muted echo in a vast room- 
a ghost of a sound.  
Spindly fingers of branches against my flesh, 
I feel with no sensation. 
As I passed through the drifting mists, 
wrapped around me like many veils, 
I feel a change. 
Moving forward in a dream, 
unable to pause.with feet unmoving, 
I knew I had entered some place unlike my own, 
a world apart from mine 
from which I would never return. 
A journey unknown begun through passage, 
drifting through my mind.
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