Some Musings on Cliffs

Cliffs:
edges?
boundaries to nowhere?
marking points
containers and directors of water flows

from below Cliffs are imposing
looming up from the sea
or from the river...
water frothing and spitting at their base
where the waters of venus meet the mountains of mars

Carlos Castaneda took a leap of faith off a cliff to shamanistic visions
Many these days jump/fly off with Wings off carbon and silk
tied to the ordinary, but flirting with exhiliration

most just hold back
afraid of the unknown, the unseeable, the unimaginable
fearing chaos
a failure of imagination, a retreat to safety
a reliance on that which is known or said to be known
fettered by habits, by consensus realities
secure in their cocoons of safe mediocrity

The cliff jump is a jump towards aliveness
the ultimate risk, an act of exposing all
for all to view
externally trembling cold, but flushed from within

The Cliff is a marker.... the divide from the material to ephemeral

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Clefts are Cliffs inversed
Deep and mysterious
inviting to be explored
Caves to be spelunked
despoiled

approaching tenderly
rappelling with teasing caresses
cautious peering
secrets secreted deep within