My heart swings in wild arcs over canyons of the unknown
Hang on, white knuckles to the slippery bar and tattered rope that threatens to drop you one way or another
Down into the breaking of hearts unmendable succulent burn of muscle and fiber fighting to hold on to the imperfect known and not fall into the unseeable future.
Have I so little faith in the universe’s plan? is my human failing to fear so strong? when the only worse case is just death in itself only a doorway to another journey another dark canyon another unknown
Cling tightly white knuckles until the shaking trembles unbearable and you have no other recourse than to let go.