The Liminal Space of a Cliff

Standing on the cliff’s edge,
I see the rim of the bay
eclipse and cage that slowly burning horizon.
There’s so many paths one could take above the ocean to that horizon,
but in not choosing one,
I will only have only one path to follow below.

Distance seems like such an illusion here on this cliff.
A ship floating so far out
looks like a toy I can grab with a scant stretch,
a strange and dizzying trick of perspective.
An illusion that resembles a choice self-inflicted;
to fall down or to step back.

Though the sun is far from setting,
the moon already floats in the sky.
Today already feels three quarters to the morrow,
but still one quarter yesterday,
such that this present hardly feels real.

Walking to or from home,
I do not yet know,
but I trace the edge of the cliff’s outline
with my feet as I pace then in place
to pass the seconds in an effort to quicken
the wait for light’s end.

Stars peeking out far above
remind me of myriad worlds so distant now,
and I tilt my head upwards to gaze at them,
dancing with the call of the void.
Looking down at the rocks gives rise to addicting vertigo,
a loving feeling of floating enveloping my heart.
I feel as if I could fly.

A salty breeze sets my heart at ease
as I spread my arms and lean out over that edge,
trusting nothing but the wind blowing hard against me
to keep me from falling down to the rocks below.
I hang like a hangman’s noose waiting,
bracing for the wind to stop.
The sun fully sets; the moon is wondrously full;
my self imposed deadline has been reached,
and a decision has been made.

Bidding farewell to that beckoning void,
I step back from the sea before the wind dies down,
and I return to land.

Once more picking a course above the horizon again.
the stars look down at me with what I hope is pride,
for I have chosen one more day,
given myself more time to chart another path.

The rocks still call as waves crash upon them,
the leap still seems tantalizingly short,
but today will not be that end just yet.

---

AN: I HAVE DEPRESSION: The Poem. In all seriousness, I'm proud of this poem. Really quite proud. Even against the stupid pronoun rule, I think this one stands out. I love my word choices, my wordplay, and yeah. I love this poem. Time may turn it to like, but... this is one of my favorite poems that I've made and I'm proud of it.

I've scheduled this to come out on New Year's Eve on Patreon. Endings are hard and while we know they are usually new beginnings, it's so very hard to remember that. We still have to try though. Just... taking a step back from a cliff and deciding to try one more time until the end of life.

So let's try again together for this new year.