In front of the old house the tree used to stand.  Now, it was just the remains.  But the remains still stood.

It was just an old tree stump.  Oddly placed in front of the house.  But when I added my imagination it became a portal to the heavens.  

Upon it, I climbed, and stood.

I looked left.  I looked right.  To my left was the lane leading to the main road a quarter of a mile away.  It seemed like a very long road at the time.   To my right was a field that led to “the water”.   But I couldn’t see the water.  I could only see a pathway through the fields.

I stood upon my portal and I sang.   Loudly.   “When the saints come marching in”.

I looked to my right.   I belted out “oh when the saints come marching in”.