She stands near the precipice
Toes to the edge
Looking out on the landscape
Of her life

She is not faced with the crossroads
At the crossroads you can see down the path
For a little ways at least

To move forward she simply has to jump
She may fly, soaring higher than she ever imagine
She may flounder, struggling to stay up
She may fall, the weight of it all
Baring too much on her soul
Nothing will happen if she stays and
Those she loves will move on

She cannot see the bottom
She knows she needs to trust herself
She knows she can fly
She inches closer to the chasm, terrified
She just needs some courage

wc 119

There is,  by my leaning over the precipice 

 Of your presence and your absense in hopeless fusion

 My finding the secret,  Of loving you







There is space between safety and danger

an edge, where I stand

where we linger


You and I 

weighing the risk of a leap

or the quiet surrender of retreat 


Hindsight may tell us otherwise

but that is a story for another time


Today I am ready for adrenaline 


Let us embrace the contradiction 

how I am always closest to you

when I am far away  








italics    Andre Breton

Prec"i*pice (?), n. [F. pr'ecipice, L. praecipitium, fr. praeceps, -cipitis, headlong; prae before + caput, capitis, the head. See Pre-, and Chief.]


A sudden or headlong fall.




A headlong steep; a very steep, perpendicular, or overhanging place; an abrupt declivity; a cliff.

Where wealth like fruit on precipices grew. Dryden.


© Webster 1913.

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