Standing on the edge

Standing on this lip

of land, her endless

creativity and sheltering protection,

cluttering the space behind me,

Leaning into spaciousness

of water and of sky– comforting abyss-

where I can watch the moon ,

hidden from my view beneath that canopy,

trace her unfailing path from horizon to horizon

above this still or stormy sea

Standing on this edge

between my head with its protective clutter

– endless analysis and sheltering solutions–

and my heart

leaning into spaciousness

of Mystery and of Love, alternately comforting/distressing,

as She traces Her path across the surface of my life and then


in the darkness of this moment

I plummet into my heart, receiving fear, accepting pain

To land upon a tentative raft of trust –

Manufactured from these memories

No longer Known, but longing to re-member

Will I float or sink upon this fragile craft

Of manufactured hope

As leaves fall from these trees, opening to sky

So does each solution– plan, fix, resolve, repair–

let go into compassion, relinquishing the need to know

for now

Standing on this edge of self

At this fluid intersection

of the Yin and Yang in me

Heaven and earth kissing

in one body, Fear and Love, Hope and Pain

Where head and heart are one

Wisdom is Her name.

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