This thin thin wire
Sways in generous bulging arcs
From breeze to breeze
Like a child's jumprope
Or the rippling undulations
Of a lustrous serpent
Moving through thick waters.
We are suspended under
This snakerope
And we are pulled along
By it. There is no escape:
The mountain floor beneath us
Is frighteningly distant.
The trees are miniature layered fans
And its boulders a pebbled mosaic.
A ridge rises before us.
Our eyes tells us there is no
Way over it, and yet
The cable passes through a crevice.
This, then, is faith:
We know we must follow where the cable has
Gone, and let our hearts
Finish the ride,
Finish the ride.
copyrighted poem
Image courtesy of freedigitalphotos.net
2 comments:
Beautiful.
It took me just a leeeetle bit longer than it should have to get the point of this...here trams travel along the ground in the inner-city, I think you might call them trolley-cars, or street-cars. Not such a faith journey, unless your ticket has expired :)
BUT...I did ride one of those things fairly recently, one of those swinging-off-a-mountain things, and I totally get it. My youngest son was petrified.
Beautiful analogy, beautiful description. Thank you!
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