A doorway stands ajar, its frame glowing with waves of white energy spilling outward, swirling in hues of purple, blue, and yellow. It calls to me, a passage beyond grief, beyond longing. Each spiral carries motion, rhythm, and unseen whispers, as if the energy itself is alive, calling, urging, waiting.
A lorikeet stands in the threshold, wings spread wide, its soft gaze steady. It does not block my path but it does not let me pass. It is my guardian, the embodiment of my mother’s love wrapped in spirit and warning. Warning me to stay.
I ache to cross the border, to step into the unknown, to reunite with her. But the lorikeet does not move. She reminds me it is not my time yet, but the energy pulses a silent conversation between realms. She is here, but not as I remember. She is within the spirals, within the rhythm, within the quiet resistance holding me in place.