I step up to the edge, the breeze blowing my hair.
I close my eyes and I can see it.
My feet leave the ground as my wings catch the wind.
I’m flying.
But, when I open my eyes, I’m not soaring
and my feet are still on solid ground.
What if I fall?
I can’t risk it, that pain.
I look around and see others fearlessly facing the plunge,
but I remain frozen in place.
Scared.
All I can think is, “What if I fall? What if I fall?”
It’s then, in the midst of my frantic thoughts,
That I hear a still, small voice say,
“Yes, but what if you fly?”

Collections of my disorderly thoughts
gathered together with knots
of my ample desire
to make sense of my everyday life.

Ideas swirl around my head
Each one could be a hit
Each one could be a flop
But trying to write it
Proves difficult

I sit
I write
I scratch
I rewrite

Slowly I take a part of my soul
And the melody shows itself

The song now complete.