The danger, and the fear

Into the breach
she once more felt
compelled to dive
and yet the darkness
threatened there:
how deep might one be
required to fall
before the underlying linkage rose
to meet this plummeting mood,
and would that surface prove
a trampoline, a net,
or cold hard stone,
impenetrable,
unyielding to the last
and thus a source of only bruised
and broken bones?


And therein lies the danger, and the fear:
that one might not emerge,
or, worse, crawl forth so damaged by the journey
as to no longer function;
with nothing to show for her courage but her pain;
no healing there
but just the dull ache of longing for what might have been.
No wonder, then, that most would choose
to rest so lightly,
like this leaf,
upon the surface of things;
though briefly captured,
a bright inconstant petal
to flutter away at the mercy of wind or tide;
to disintegrate, so gracefully, into lace
and finally to earth,
rather than to suffer,
or to risk.