There are doorways

not made of wood
or stone

or branches of trees
crossing their arms
twining together

But liminal space

A place unknown
where steps decide trajectory

define what is to be

Space where nothing resides
else it be blocked
unusable
un-purposed

Yet a place
where eternity
kisses your cheek

takes your hand
and whispers

“Welcome.”

.

.

.

Authors Note:

Day Two of Na/GloPoWritMo.

Today’s inspiration: The Road Less Taken by Robert Frost.