How Does She Do That

I run into traffic, experiencing the rush of darting and diving Others do not understand, having never reached adrenalin nirvana She is nuts, some say Behind my back or to my face I care not; my love for myself is not dependent on their approval You are too old to bungee jump, one tells me in a prissy way I laugh, as I prepare to jump out of an airplane Not caring if the parachute opens or not I have had a terrific life; I am ready for the next step I doubt there will be naysayers on the other side of the veil Stop her! Someone screeches as I jump This thrills me almost as much as the leap myself They throw my chute out and I catch it. How does she do that? One of the doubters ask. Faith, my children say. Confident I will somehow land on my feet.