I pass through the Solstice gate
And I am changed.
I squeeze and slip
Through the narrow place,
The thin place,
Where all our years are seen,
And worlds stack like sheets of glass.
I pass through the Solstice gate
And I am changed.
I leave behind what cannot fit,
Shedding self like snakeskin,
Discarded as old, ill-fitting clothes.
In the no-time, no-place, nothing,
I lose myself, to find it all.
I pass through the Solstice gate,
The threshold, one of three,
And I am changed.



Scott
in reply to Bendolph T. Red-Nosed-Reindeer • • •