Well, would you?
2006 April 2
On the top
of a cliff
he stood.
It might have been a woman.
It hardly matters.
He (or she) stood
and looked
down.
And down.
And further down.
Wa (some might add aaaayyy) y down.
Sheep or clouds. Clouds or sheep.
Cotton wool.
Crumpled poems.
Broken eggs.
Pillows.
Feathers.
The air was thin, barely covering the world’s nakedness.
She (or he) took a deep breath.
(The air was thin. Deep breathing helped.)
Did he close her eyes?
Did s/he
jump?
This was an offering to Sunday Scribblings.
Wow, I enjoyed this. I appreciate you’re use of imagery…very subtle like a light touch of fingers, but powerful. I began to form the question as I read and chuckled when you choose not to answer it in the end. Its that moment we all must face and answer ourselves, aye.
Lovely imagery. Who is s/he? Does it matter? Isn’t it really just a symbol of indecision? And then…what to do?
Filled with Jungian imagery, it is.
I say: S/he jumps…and flies.
Yes–s/he jumped and it was fantastic!
Hee Hee . . . I don’t know. I’m locked in such suspense!!
SPLAT!
The end.
Oh yeah, he/she jumped.
So creative and suspenseful (and funny at times, too!). Love your inventive (and beautiful) approach on finding the courage to take risks! I have wonderful images of the crumpled poems, eggshells, and feathers in the crevices! Thank you for sharing your words!
beautiful!
Wonderful, suspensful, amusing! Yes, the leap was taken.
This brings back the image that used to haunt me, taunt me when I used to do Zazen…
Wonderful.