-For these forty-five years- I’ve stepped onto the precipice Recalling my reflectiveness At times the cold, hard mess of this My wild and precious life -Halfway point if I’m lucky- All of those suitcase stop overs The ghost lips of my old lovers The sneering jeers of the others A road of love and pain -Still they stood in awe- I jumped into the din of it The raucous, churning, spinning pit With gods and man and demons sit From each the lessons came -A question I ask myself daily- What good is life to meekly live To bore to death, to fail to give For safety’s sake a human sieve To drop into the grave -Instead I will jump, chance, fly- Though the journey is long and fraught Failing to dare will come to naught When fear and terror run red hot I’ll do it anyway