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The Edge
by Laura J. Canham
What a terribly sharp edge
honed to an invisible peak
That edge between not enough
And too much
Balanced perfectly
on that blade
in the space of a gasp
just enough too much
I hear whispers
telling me
to stand on my toes
at the zenith
whispers to stand
fearlessly
and stretch my arms upward
grasping at relief
feeling for the end
of endless knots
tightened into quantum space
snaring everything in the tangle
I will not survive
a fall from this apex
a stumble onto that blade
splitting me in two
I will not survive
on this side of the edge
taking what is handed out
ignoring my own knots
A leap is necessary
of courage
of awareness
of trust
A leap onto the summit
directly through my self
with absolute sureness,
grace
My only choice
is to rest comfortably
in this space where there is
just enough too much
Finally untied
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About the Author:
Laura J. Canham is a full-time technical writer for a software
company in the Chicago area. She is a classical pianist and spends her spare
time writing fiction, participating in various physical activities, and
attempting to stir up trouble.
What do you think?
[snarl! of the month]
[the edge]
[say anything]
[untitled poem]
[pennies]
[you don't bring me flowers anymore]
[her bittersweet revenge]
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