Between what was and what comes next lies a space of possibility—uncertain, yet full of potential.
This poem comes from the word prompt of “interregnum” (inter-reg-num)
Now, interregnum usually refers to a gap between rulers, a pause in power—but it can also mean any space between what was and what comes next. A waiting period. A breath before the plunge.
This word felt personal to me because right now, I’m in my own kind of interregnum. A path unwritten, the kind of transition where everything is open, yet nothing is certain.
So, for this poem, I leaned into that feeling—floating between destinations, untethered but not lost.
Let’s step into the in-between.
Living in the hush,
between waves,
adrift in the space,
where doors stand open
but I have not yet stepped through.
No roots, no tether,
no map to fold.
The hum of possibility,
curling at my feet.
The pull of somewhere,
someday.
The road does not ask me,
where I’m going.
The sky does not mind,
that I have no answer.
The wind only whispers,
she never demands.
I carry no throne,
no crown,
no kingdom.
Only the quiet reign,
of my own becoming—
a pause, a breath,
a moment unclaimed.
And maybe—that is enough…
(c) Eric Montgomery
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