Portal of Zenosyne
Hesitating, as if… if she entered she may choose to never return ….
so she stood in the dense silent haze, watching, thinking;
Every 55 minutes the portal appeared between the giant trees
a wavering, viridescent whirlpool when open
… a vague woodsy mist when closed… it would simply be as innocent as walking between any two trees… except… she felt the residual energy others might not feel…
Three times she ventured between the tree Guardians
when the Way was closed… three times she wandered back
to stand and watch, listening to the forest rustlings
and her own beating heart…
Life is short. And life is long. But not in that order, and sometimes
it appears to stand still as if caught in a timeloop of timelessness.
This was one of those timeless times, for how long she stood
she didn’t know – suddenly suspended in liquid skies, stars glowed and faded…
a day flowed by in silent green shadows as she stood in this woods alone.
Guarding the Guardians… nay, observing the space between, as
night closed in again, in muted greens, she realised the Portal
appeared to be sleeping, she watched as moon rose high overhead
and when the viridescent whirlpool did not reopen, she lay in leaf-fall, sleeping as well;
Dawningtime, birdsong swelled only trailing to silence when
the Portal of Zenosyne glowed into be-ing…
Hesitating, as if… as if she entered she may choose to never return
how well she knows that Life is short. And life is long.
And not necessarily in that order…
She breathed in the forest air
And took a step into the viridescent glow, finally ready for whatever
Poetry and Art Sharonlee Goodhand Imageweaver
Zenosyne: The Sense That Time Keeps Going Faster
(From the Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows)