One Foot Over the Edge

Sometimes I wish I had said no, had turned away from the shimmering imperative to follow the call, to say yes. Those are the dark days, the ones where energy hides out under some rock, and my tired bones just want to lie down and sink into the earth. Those days come more often now that can't move as fast. Until the dragon catches up to me though, I'll keep throwing one foot over the yawning chasm of what I don't know and hope that some support extends from the unknowable to catch my weight and give me a place to stand so I can swing the next foot forward, again over emptiness that somehow becomes something, even when no one seems to care where it is that I walk. Certainly no one reads what I write. So I just keep moving, placing one foot in front of the other, trusting that my weight will be held, until it isn't.