Young ago
I was trampoline jumping
When my eyes spied
An opening in the sky
Sorta portal-like
High, higher than high
I jumped and bounced
Reaching
Like Jack and his bean stalk
High! Even higher
YESSS
I bounced right thru that portal
That strange opening
In the sky
OH! Oh my
What my eyes spied
But for that moment
Up there
So so very grand
Heaven perhaps?
I shall never forget
That glimpse
Then suddenly
In a life moment
I returned -
An old man.
tom tenbrunsel
Poet Laureate of Tall Tales
Author’s Note: Take every portal you can. They’re here and there, everywhere. Anything could be a portal. Zip through them each. Look around. Dare. There is much to be discovered in the prose poetry reality of one’s imagination. A poem is a portal!
Does time halt in a portal? Or not. Is it possible to be immortalized by portalizing?
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