Have you ever climbed so high
you were scared to look down?
But you did anyway?
And it took your breath away.
Like you knew it would?
The sight of rungs you’ve only
recently ascended upon disappear into the
infinite nothing that is your past.
Alone. Scared. Weathered. Looking up offers
no consolation only uncertainty that lingers
thick as nimbus. Rain. Inevitable.
Stellar memories seduce your nerves
into letting go and free-fall into the
nothing crash-land in your past
lower on the ladder but
definitely not alone.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem