There are few times that really catch the mind, body, and spirit in full awareness of each other. When they all tingle with the fullness of knowing that the others truly exist, not because logic dictates it, but because each part of a human can feel the others reverberating against it like horse-hair against cello strings.
The soles of feet take ground inch by timid inch, while arms grasp the wind for assurance of balance while the chest moves fast and shallow as if to make one lighter. The mind sees, hears, perceives, makes plans and adjusts them with the same speed as lightning striking through the clouds. But the Spirit, the Spirit leaps.
The Edge of a Cliff, the pinnacle of mortality. The Threshold of Heaven. We stand and are whole, we fall and are broken. This simple truth is all that exists, and no other thing means anything. But we walk away from the edge, back to the plains and the hills, where falling has no fear and where standing means nothing.
Lord, Keep me on the Cliff.
My actions need consequences, my faith rewards me. My caution brings profit and my daring sends me far above the world. The fear of falling will never trump my fear of failing, yet my will be yours, and I fear no failure. Keep me on the edge, never send me away. This is my prayer, and when my part is played,
Let me Leap from the cliff, and lay feet through Heaven's gates.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments
Post a Comment