It’s like walking in the sky
The scale of which you can only see
From high above on that tiny ridge
Sacred of how free you may actually be.

What would happen if I threw myself off?
Slam against the rocks
Break my back?
Scramble down, rip my skin from the top.

There’s too much beauty
It’s wearing to uncover
Far too frail to actually traverse
Instead, pay your respects to it’s mother.

So, once soaring for the sun
Stay in the moment
Most of all, your skin
Shares the fortune of laying frozen.