Without a Net

The edging light commands

the lined rock to dance

in orange and pink hues

as the Arizona sun sinks behind the mesa.

We stand and embrace, swaying

ever so subtly,

moved by the waves

of the wind.

My lungs are filled

with your gentle essence and you

brush back my naughty curls

tickling your nose.

We remain together for the breath of eternity:

you, the saint: generous and kind;

me, an angel with wings of love;

entangled in a snarl of complication.

When the last segment of the golden

circumference disappears, I realize

I am walking this ledge

without a net.

No expectation of the daystar’s return or

wind’s whisper of promise. Only

this moment and an irrepressible

desire to fly.

photo credit: Ed Siderewicz