There is a place where all paths meet,
deep in the realm of dreams,
a place known and loved
by travelers of every land and age.
There they can rest from their wandering,
sit by the fire with friends they’ve never met,
and tell tales of secret roads they’ve walked.
Here the bird is free of the cage
and colored feathers flicker in the firelight.
Here the men of the river-city
sit with the sisters of the mist.
Here the sea-sailor and the star-sailor
share a mug of nut-brown ale
with a bard who fingers her harpstrings
while muttering under her breath.
This is the campground
that lies beyond the shores of night,
the turning point of all journeys,
and the only map you need
to find your way to the Crossroads
is the soul of an explorer.