Updated: Nov 12, 2021
In the waiting room, I spied a neat picture on the wall. Looking closer and closer, I suddenly found myself in it, inside, inside the painting, on the pathway. “Wow! Neat,” I exclaimed (one older gentleman, in the chair across the room from where I was, looked up and not seeing me, clueless, went back to napping). So I proceeded down the picture path. I walked along, alone, in the ethereal forest, contemplating introspecting. The path, it seemed to veer left, or was it right? Or perhaps both? The choice beckoned, whispering, “nevermore.” Anyways, I took it and was never seen again. I’m happy where it lead me.
Author’s Note: What just happened? True Story? Or just some tall tale, or, perhaps, an abbreviated memoir. Did the fella, step through, from his three dimensional existence, into a two dimensional object, leading him not to the third dimension, as we all expected, but rather into a fourth dimension? Is the fourth dimension imagination? Are the fourth or fifth dimensions reachable? And in this case, did the trail he took in his fourth dimensional adventure actually lead him into a fifth dimension - transcendence - possibly? Is the fifth dimention life after life? Maby? Why was he in what waiting room; what for? Do we have to wait before we transcend? How will you transcend?
Poet Laureate of My Domain
*photo from the waiting room of one of my several specialists tending to my life accumulated list of diagnoses. My age? Why I’ll let you guess. But I’d say most days I feel fifteen years younger. Which is it? Your actual age in numbers, or what you think it is😉