The Ledge

.


The Ledge

The last thread has slipped
From my trembling fingers
And caught on the wind.
Relinquished, carried
Away from me.

I watch it dance on the breeze
till it is but a speck on the horizon.
I knew this time would come.
It had to.

The pain was always too much to bare.
I have long since stopped
My climb to the summit.
I will sit awhile on the ledge.

Dangling and swinging
my feet to and fro.
I will not look again for
the precious golden thread,
For with it comes too much pain.

I feel the memories
swirl in the air around me.
Taunting,
tempting me once again
to reach,
to climb
to hope.

But I shall not

For I now know
that anything I truly need
will be provided
By him.