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a long time ago
in her native terrain

unknown poet
called herself
“Forlorn at the Cliff”

her body
lobbed off
the precipice
falling deep
into the valley

a long

slow motion

of the passage

to the never seen

not to see
her own calling

one day
the body indeed
tossed off the bluff
to surrender

yet gathered
by the feather
of the light

in the blindness
not to see
her own calling

in the end
the courage
to depart from
the thorny darkness

placed a step
into a journey

a story of
truly casting
off the cliff

to find
the world

that was