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Malia Jul 25
Upon the gate
Words inscribed
"TRESPASSERS BEWARE"

Behind me mist recedes
Steep cliff revealed
At the brink I tense

My footsteps echo as
The gate looms larger
Damp black rocks under

Hits me the tortured's howls
As I step across the threshold
Legs steady, eyes set

Dense fog obscuring
Flame and body
The torch flickers

A winding path I follow
Patient and unwavering
With sword unsheathed

Cold wind announces my destination
Before me the chasm yawns
From my hands the flickering torch
Fell boucing down jagged rocks

I grasp the hilt of my sword
Light refracting off the blade
I hold it outward through the fog
Its light dimming by the minute
And await the terrors to come

Rumbling from the distance
The gate crashes down
Darkness falls upon this realm
The chilly wind picking up
All sounds coming to a halt
I close my eyes

Steps unsteady as I pick my way
Not knowing how many
Gasping I pull my feet back
As it touched empty space
Then tentatively I inch
Forward with a heavy breath
Until I stop at the very brink

For a minute staying still yet
With a lurch I slip into the chasm
Cloak billowing above me I
Flail around in a frenzy
I feel the cool hilt still and
Point the sword downwards
Taking a deep breath and
Bracing for the impact
Credit to Orderwastery, a good friend of mine.
Zywa Feb 2023
The old threshold is

not worn out, my visitors --


step right over it.
Poem "van rompuytjes (22/11/- 8:00 37.1)" - II (2013, Hans Groenewegen)

Collection "Rasping ants"
Glenn Currier May 2020
Here I wait resting on the door jamb
standing betwixt and between
shall I stay here or drop my hand,
move beyond what I’ve known and seen?
What will be out there to my left and right
where will the next step take me from here?
They said danger is there out of my sight -
threats, jinxes, and disease if that step I dare.

But if I move back into the shady cool
I’ll be safe in this cozy inner space.
Being in between without old rules
not knowing the beyond I’ll face
is scary but this is a journey of revelation
even if sacrifice and loss is in this race
I trust I will find peace and inspiration.
It seems these days we are in what is sometimes called liminal space, it is a place in between what we have known and experienced and what reality will be in the future.  It is a threshold which is uncomfortable and scary but also full of opportunity and possibilities of new discoveries, growth, and self-awareness.

To see a picture that goes with this poem:
https://84d50815-7c77-4829-a384-7a6e7e70b8aa.filesusr.com/ugd/7a608a_cacaa28d34534eb1abedac23bd88f6e8.pdf
Bhill Feb 2020
the threshold of our reality is disturbing
day after day disruptions in the airwaves block sensibility
airwaves, that before, were comfortable to play in
where is it safe to tinker today

Brian Hill - 2020 # 45
Do you know your reality?
Mary-Eliz May 2018
death comes
hungry

at times swiftly
like a high
wind

rushing
through in
wanton disregard

other times

slowly like an
iceberg

stealthy, lurking

obscured

by the flower that
is love

hushed

by the music that
is life

subdued

by the dance that
is spirit

as we pass our days
on this swirling
sphere

until our threshold's
met
Mystic Ink Plus Feb 2018
Mind full of constant thoughts
To every shadows, dreams, and forms

Smell of a distance distinct fume
River pass through, swiping into empty rooms
Flooding all hopes of livingkind,
Left, no time to construct a paper boat

Searching a space to keep feet off the ground
Run a race, without a finish line
Complex world we all live in,
Cursing the Nature, making fool of self

Get touch with reality, time and space
Let me tell, Let me hear,
Mirror always expect one to smile
Wonder, what dreams one will have tonight
Theme: Dedicated to natural calamity victims of everytime.
Lynette Warren Jan 2018
I used to believe that pain had
some kind of cosmic
threshold

could only go so far then strengthen me
making me
bold

I've been branded with a much deeper, darker,
wider, weeping & gnashing of teeth
type of pain of which I thought was
reserved for an un-earthly
hell

Now I know it can exist
long before death so far as I can
tell
I'm still believing You Lord that we were always only passing thru
Kirsten Claire Jan 2018
At the threshold
   Between calamity
      And perfect harmony
         You and I walk
      On ropes too tight
   And heights too great
To make a mistake
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