portals and possibility

sometimes I stand
here
at the very edge of things
where the veil rips apart and
the passage of my story
gleams and
melts
into all other stories,
pulsing into the bigger picture and ever widening into the
wild wide amorphous great sunrise of being

sometimes I stand
here
at the precipice
of all the pathways of possibility that lead from the portal of myself
in moments where everything
appears
just and exactly
so