Falling Is Like This

Teetering on the edge of

A big idea.

Each line, a step,

Towards that moment

Where it takes off.

One stride too far,

Over an edge too steep

And I’m immortal, powerless,

Until I hit the ground,

And look up at what I achieved.

Disappointment, often, when

Faced with the end result

The big idea no longer seems so big

The fall, awkward

And unspectacular.

But, once in a while, after

The syllables through my hair

Then my bare feet on coarse carpet,

I hit what I head for

And study my imprint.