Wednesday, August 27, 2014

At the edge

I am not afraid of heights
I can stand at the edge of a cliff 
and look all the way down 
unflinching, unwavering 
What scares me is the very fact that I am not frightened
Shouldn't I be?
I guess when standing at the edge for so long 
one gets used to the view
One gets used to the shifting winds
the constant readjustment of equilibrium
There is a strength that comes 
from finding sure footing 
maintaining your stance 
no matter what gusts blow by
Maybe it's the sound of my own voice 
echoing back to me after I shout it out 
letting me know that I am really there 
it's not just my imagination
Could be an adrenaline junky hidden deep inside
A junky with commitment issues
rarely ever jumping
Standing at the top 
watching others leap
Vaulting to their destinations
Soaring to new heights
Falling to destruction
Some float like a leaf 
gliding softly to the bottom
The bottom
That's what I am afraid of
What is down there
waiting for me 
What kind of landing will I have
How do I get out when I get there
Will there be someone to catch me
Will I have to climb all the way back to the top
Will I learn to fly 
or will I fall to my end
So many questions
that keep me frozen
time standing still
motionless, fear full, at the edge of the cliff

August 2014

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