poised on jagged rock
then leap to landing beneath–
three feet
or three hundred
is unknown

will it be touchdown
forced re-entry
or crash landing

gravity demands
contact with
terre ferme–but how
and when and where
is unclear

pried from serene sanctum
lacking comfort
of destination definition
dusk of the soul

does absence of light
launch growing
or invite luminous

darkness–the infinite
giver of what is
yet feared, reviled, rebuked
in ignorance

pining for horizon
shivering with possibility
never apprehended
having become inured to
disingenuous ease

does security surreptitiously
lure into tedium
then silently strangle
all hope of

purpose flowers
nearly undetected
in solitary gloaming
silently illuminating
blossoming compassion

© Julia Penner-Zook, 2015


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