The Cliff

EAGLE-EYED POETRY.

39

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..you’re standing on the edge of a cliff, are you worried about falling or thinking about soaring?

Crawl
through the suffocating inside of hell’s furnace

Walk barefoot
over broken boards littered with the poison of old rusted nails

Wrestle
With fire breathing dragons while simultaneously siphoning Satan’s venom
from your soul

Swim
From the bottom of the Atlantic through a school of Great Whites covered in blood to get to the famed shores of hope

Jump
Over lakes of quicksand into bushes of poison ivy with the shackles of incarceration on your ankles and wrist

Swing
From southern branches like ripe apples waiting to be picked for the autumn harvest

Escape
From the throngs of slavery only to be stabbed by the slithering scales of Justice

Survive
The mind altering trauma of mass incarceration and run

Run
Away from the barking dogs chasing you through the enchanted forest

Run
Barefoot…

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About Jonathan Caswell

Mr. Caswell has been composing poetry at least since High School. He has been on WORD PRESS for ten years and contributes to two other blogs beside this one. This blog has a Christian emphasis but all bloggers are welcome. Mr. Caswell chooses to---with permission--re[post material of interest

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