The Cliff

July 5, 1992


On the edge

Of the cliff

I stand,

Looking at the world's splendor

The view

From way up here

Is breathtaking.

So I sit down

To bring air to my lungs.

I put my hands down

On the soft soil

Behind me

And look

At the clouds

And their

Ever-changing shapes,

Like people

Growing up,

Growing old.

My feet dangle

Far above the ground

And I gaze


At the beauty

Beneath me.

But it frightens me

So I pull

My legs up,

Preferring the feel

Of safety,

Like so many of us do.

The world is so beautiful

From here.

Far away

The problems

It holds

Can't be noticed.

But neither can

The good feelings.

Only by taking

My small place,

Like one of the stars

That begin to fill

The now darkening sky,

Can the full effect

Of our world

Be felt.

So I begin

My walk

Back home,

Taking one flower

From the ground

To remind me

Of the wondrous place

In which we live

That I have seen

From the edge

Of the cliff.