The Threshold
A dream, a hope, a belief I hold close…
I’m standing on the threshold of this life, and what comes next,
That liminal space between what was, and what is to come,
The doorway, the veil, the light, or the darkness,
Even a precipice holds no fear.
Just one more step
Shall I fall, or float, or soar?
Or find new unseen ground beneath my feet?
It matters not
Death is no more the end of life than it is the beginning
The end of one tired journey, time to start anew.
And if this belief fails me
For no-one can know for sure
If death is truly The End of this “i am”
I will have lost all, and nothing
As “i am” will not be there to say “i was”, and grieve
But to me this makes no sense
So without shame I hold this hope
The essence of “i am” will continue on
Sunrise will follow sunset
(If indeed there is still a Sun)
A new realm beyond comprehension
That earthly words, and dreams, even imaginings, cannot grasp
What will I perceive in this new paradigm?
And how?
Will I see, hear, touch? Will I think and feel?
Or will my senses and mind be so transformed
That perceiving and being are completely new?
I wonder now how I will wonder then.
And far more crucial than What,
Who will I find?
How will we interact, and connect, and love?
If relationships exist at all.
Perhaps a myriad of “i ams” will be “we are”
Each unique, yet all as one.
But this threshold is a far horizon
Much yet to see, love, be and do
Or maybe not
I may be surprised
And next moment wake somewhere new.
Ian James
05/03/2017
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