The Threshold Tree

Branches paint clouds;

Roots dig deep, deep, deep down

To a strong bedrock foundation

Resting at sea’s edge.

This lone tree is the threshold

Between two realms:

The earthly one where I stand;

The diaphanous one where the spirits wait.

I hear them …

The waves crashing against rock,

A seagull’s cry,

The wind lamenting in my hair.

Once the sun returns to salty womb,

The portal will slowly open

And the dead will dance with the living

Until first light.