Walking On the Edge

Walking along, the edge of the cliff, What is that prevents the slip? The horizon beckons you to take a step, Into the glory, of the dusky sunset; You look, down, see waves, lapping rocks, A thousand feet below the outcrop; Seagull, feasting on overzealous fish, Divine beauty and the beast; Vertigo seems a lost affair, You have conquered your visionary scare, Surreal, as it appears to be, The fresh wind kisses your face, from the sea, You follow the wind path, and turn around, Unfaltering, you take a stride back to known ground