“free verse poem about transcendence and alternate dimensions”

Through a lattice of morning and midnight  
I walk,  
shadow unsutured from the foot—  
one step, and the world’s language fractures  
into streams of blue thought,  
ink without page.  
Above rooftops, a strange horizon  
spills velvet rivers into air,  
and my weight is neither burden nor belonging.

I pass through thresholds  
where time folds like silk scarves:  
the scent of childhood rain,  
cold coins dropping in a well,  
echo, echo,  
the bell’s toll in a town where I have never lived.  
Each silence a bridge—  
each breath an invitation  
to shed old gravity.

In these uncharted rooms  
I glimpse my hands,  
fluid as mirror glass, shape-shifting  
with the pulse of distant suns  
whose names I cannot speak.  
I am double, triple—  
many selves orbiting the star of this moment,  
threaded through forgotten gardens  
where the wind sings in dialects unlearned.

Is this ascent or unraveling?  
Transcendence is neither answer nor escape,  
only doors—doors opening—  
not to heavens, not to conclusions,  
but to hallways lined  
with the sumptuous velvet of mystery  
where each question is a key,  
and all the locks are turning.

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