ramblings and things

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Through the mist a hand appears

One finger slowly beckoning on,

The mist shakes and shimmers

The hand withdraws and is gone.

The mist parts as I walk through

And in amazemnt can only stand;

I have left a foggy city street 

To enter a green and verdant land.


She stands there smiling,

Her smile drawing me near,

Speaks but I can’t understand,

Strange but sweet to the ear,

A language that rises and lilts

Less speech, more song

As it wraps, tices, soothes

Steadily draws me on and on. 


The singing stops

And with nothing spoken

I stand there still

That spell broken,

See those eyes

Diamond hard brazen bold

Emotionless, empty

Unblinking icy cold.


I pulled back in fear and dread

Willing it so our gaze did not meet

Felt the cold enclosing mist

Staggered back onto that foggy street.

I walked away 

Overcome by fear

Felt my end had been

So very near.

It is printed on my mind

I have total recall,

Certainly not imagination

For I can see it all.

Somehow I think

I crossed a great divide

Between two different worlds

Where dimensions collide.

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A Finger Beckons