Twilight’s Portal

R.M. Hamilton

Betwixt the day and cloudy night-
The gloaming sky turns opal bright.
When all the world seems fast asleep-
And only dreams and visions creep-
When the glamoured world draws near-
And ghosts and gods are everywhere-
The portal of the soul grows wide-
For many ghouls to step inside.
Yet there is a fainter choice,
Not in the storm but whispered voice.
“Hear me, heed me,” is the cry.
“And all that frightens you will die.”
Accept that voice and say Amen.
The portal widens once again.
And in that voice, we find release-
As all that enters, is holy peace.

Picture of gate generously provided by Pixabay. The poem belongs to R.M. Hamilton. All rights reserved.