This is a piece I wrote at this time last year. Liminal space is the space between, the transition zone between one thing and another. There is always space between the forest and the wetland, a mixture of both where a completely different set of ecological interactions take place. Just as there is a liminal space between us.
Liminal Velocity
Home is the liminal space
Between dream and reality
Like the space between a swamp and a fen
Where the speckled alders and cattails grow together.
A space you occupy
Where we meet in the in between
Of late summer chorus and early mabon fog
The liminal space
That land between the rose garden and the industrial blocks
Where we roam and witness lives
Without really being a part of them
Liminal Velocity
The instant between the story you tell me
and my brain processing the words-
and losing them
in the high of seeing your smile again.
The liminal space
Between having a voice and the
Silence of a lichen
Is not so wide a canyon
As the illusion projected on the screen.
It is a pinch of genetic code, and political gain
Taught by worlds with borders between
Urban and wild
And you and me
Liminal space,
like the sandy shore between my feet and the mantel of the Earth
where things grow and death becomes life
decomposing to a base substance we call dirt.
Soil, a rush of petrichor between the rain and the sun.
blending together with the sound of your laugh
like one essence of laughter and smell,
a dance between sensation.
Liminal Velocity
The space between
my perception of you
and the reality of you-
different forms of the same perception-
is the same as the space between the sea smoke
and the inland sea herself.
The one perception we share.
Gossamer Naturalist 