The Shaman's Journey: Walking on the Border Walkway

Walking border walkways
seeing both ends
tunnels towards
one another
walkways, flickering routes
looking into galaxies
like riding on air horses
racing with passing unicorns

border walkways on edge
of mind's eye, deep
as a universe within the third eye
seeing another in gossamer light
souls like fluffy cotton balls
falling into silvery sacks
reaching out and touching
blades of floating crystals

lingering on axis
between here and the next
thin veils between worlds
life, threshold of waiting
the centre and the dzahim,
a rebirth in other coils
the walker of the Border
Walkway, will glimpse

a departing soul
sending forth scents of citrus
will be reborn soon after
One that struggles
foul smell of fear
will linger in darker shades
until a return,
in there, cleanse evil  

the walker walks
but briefly
for to linger
may be deadly.


[i]*Dzahim, a dialect for purgatory or something akin to it*[/i]