When I was a young girl,
I felt safest in the car—
going everywhere and nowhere.
That in-between place of traveling,
nothing yet settled,
everything still becoming.
I could dream there,
imagine anything.
My love of threshholds began then—
in spaces where all is still possible,
where I can simply exist,
held by air enough to breathe.
© 2025 Raven | Jasmine on the Grave. All rights reserved.
How beautiful. It makes me nostalgic for the threshold of my own youth.
And placing the mode of transport as a liminal place is very clever. Neither leaving nor arriving.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Thank you. That means a lot. I was hoping it would be that kind of safe space for others, too.
LikeLiked by 1 person