Deep in the confusion of my mind,
The harrows of my bodies pain,
The depth within,
There is a quiet place.

There is also an ache
A cavernous valley
That deep recess within me,
That I teeter the edge of

And it threatens often
To swallow me whole.
Don’t look down they say.
Breathe they say.

Well, I’m sure I knew how once
In fact I’ve written a book
Of instructions,
On how to do this very thing.

But how easily do I forget
In the midst of the pain, the
Chaos and transitions, like birth
Messy, bloody, and
Worth every tear,
Or so I tell myself.

And I’m an expert now,
Tight rope walker
Love stalker
But the darkness
knew my name early,
And whispers continuously
In my ear.

I try so hard to shout!
But muted my thoughts doubt
The strength of my wings.
And my eyes, blinded by light
Struggle to see brighter things.

So I look down at my feet
The balance they give,
My ankles they sway and dance
This line of cavern and
Lightly scented meadow.
And I marvel at their ability
To keep me steady,
Just like they always have.

And should they fail
I try to remember
The way, when I plummet,
My wings never cease
To open wide
And catch the breeze.
And aloft once again
I see love.

Oh, but how wide and ominous,
How deep and mysterious,
How enraptured am I
With the fall and the rise?
And equally grateful am I
To be alive.

-Angel Marie Russell

#heathertheurer painting