Teetering on the edge, knuckles white
Mind racing, why am I here? spiraling
What can I hold? Or what can hold me?
How can it all somehow turn out right?
The edge is right there, am I ready?
Wonder and uncertainty battle
One pushing a direction, one pulling
What can I do with indecision?
Made of stardust, the mind is fragile
Yet one thought can power a vision.
All of us are on the edge together
Hands flexing, intuitively seeking
For something solid to hold on to
Even as the mind struggles to answer,
Bodies know there are things we can’t do
So, when faced with failure either way
Could falling end the goodness of being?
Or like a small seed blown from its tree
Could we influence how we obey?
In new ground now, but our own are we