Saturday, March 14, 2015

The Edge

I sit at the edge of my life.

Neither speaking nor thinking

Just sitting.

Been here several times before,

Sometimes only hanging by a thread,

But still holding on.

Feeling the cold breeze caress my face,

And the wind whistle.

Wasn't surrounded by many trees,

The one tree that stood in my presences, stood strong, unbothered by the wind that passed by.

Staring at the tree and then, asked,

More, I screamed,

"What do you want from me?"

Started to cry,

The wind continued

But the tree never moved.

Wiped the tears from my face,

And just stared at the tree.

No longer speaking nor thinking

Sitting and bowing my hand.

Then, Got up, and walked over to the tree.

The tree stood still,

Not afraid by my approach.

It didn't shiver when I screamed,

It took its stand and faced its storm.

No longer crying but did feel a tear.

I approached the tree and hugged it,

As if I was loving myself

Went back to the edge of my life

And, stood there.

The wind blew

And, I didn't move,

didn't cry,

Standing strong on the edge of life,



(not my image)

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