the very earth feels unreliable
nothing solid to hold on to
if it hasn’t already been lost
I push it away
don’t get too close
I’ll run away from you too
like a feral dog
everything is danger
one after another
the foundations have crumbled
the rock is bare
and yet, the clouds are beckoning
grow some wings
take a leap of faith
and soar
into some unknowable future
like birth itself
a race towards an impossibly distant light
leaving the warmth and comfort
of everything I thought I knew
some days shaking
from the immense responsibility
of being reborn
after half a century of life
is this a gift?
or a curse?
the choice is mine
if only I can find the courage
Dick Millet 