an echo, an antecedent, passive, detached.
A secret door in the glade; nay a sign, nay a shout.
Almost misplaced, almost ethereal,
like summer's sleep drifting.
What does it mean to open?
Nothing ever opens without an offering,
the dappled light fractured at the edges,
here lies cerulean secrets tucked forgotten.
Beyond lies the unremembered future. Seek the whispered secret.
Darkened footsteps tread lightly,
it is not asked for, yet always counted.
An invisible rhythm guides to the unmarked,
somewhere, anywhere, everywhere.
A leaf's shadow, another dimension.
Borderless, borderless, with porous definitions.
Undisturbed till the angels speak in riddled tongues.
A door—beyond the welcoming breath.
Descend, ascend, rise anew.
Your journey is an entangled web, unwoven yet,
and the silence speaks volumes.