Without a Net
The edging light commands
the lined rock to dance
in orange and pink hues
as the Arizona sun sinks behind the mesa.
We stand and embrace, swaying
ever so subtly,
moved by the waves
of the wind.
My lungs are filled
with your gentle essence and you
brush back my naughty curls
tickling your nose.
We remain together for the breath of eternity:
you, the saint: generous and kind;
me, an angel with wings of love;
entangled in a snarl of complication.
When the last segment of the golden
circumference disappears, I realize
I am walking this ledge
without a net.
No expectation of the daystar’s return or
wind’s whisper of promise. Only
this moment and an irrepressible
desire to fly.
photo credit: Ed Siderewicz