There is a place where sun crosses into shadow
Or, maybe it’s the other way around.
At any rate, at that very spot,
Things tend to move between worlds…
Traveling from the seen to the unseen;
From the unspoken to the full-throated
Calling, crying, laughing, sighing;
From the almost wasn’t to the here to stay.
In that place you don’t quite know
Whether to sit perfectly still, waiting…
Or spin wildly about, dancing
With the wind.
The magic of that place is that both
Are called for;
Each equally appropriate
To the moment
When dark becomes light
And vice versa
As worlds collide, passing in
And out of being.