I have come to the edge from so far.
I have come to the edge to crash my waves gently down. To lay them here to be licked and lapped and ebbed away, like a dog that knows you are sad.
I have come to the edge to make a miracle.
Tired of waiting for them to come to me.
“It’s time to get pro-active, sucka” the bully from the 80’s who lives in my head yells at me.
The wind hums out a deep-stand-up-bass-kind-of-chord on the bridge, and lets me know that God is watching. That this will not be an offensive act, a Promethean fuck you to grace. No, sir. This here is a reckoning. This here is a gift no one else knows that they are getting.
“Cars, and the lost dads inside. Cars, and the kids sitting backwards daydreaming. Cars, and the twizzlers and lollipops stuck underneath your seats. Cars, and the hot oil dripping out of you. Cars, I will meet you on the other side. And you might think I’m crazy. You might not believe me. But I will be there dry and shining”
My toes touch the bath warm water, water chapped from being kissed all day by the sun. And my toes twinkle hello in the splishy splash surface that greets them. The water nuzzles a greeting…. and I’m walking.
One foot. One step.
The wind accompanies me with a slow hum, pulls me back like a bow to be released.
I will make my miracle.
I will meet you on the other side.
Photo by Tyler Ross. Words by Stephanie Chavara.
