The way a stone is tossed into a dark well
to find water, a level, to hear it hit
bottom.
There was no other way
than by placing our whole body weight
upon the suspension bridge-
between slats, between selves
could we feel it have hold
We could stare into the infinite
and never know the safest way
to move atop such vast darkness
By one step,
one stone,
one question, one more word
about trust, what lies
below
reveals it self
in sound but out of sight,
Finally
landing is only the end
of falling.
Painting by Gerhard Munthe, 'At the Well' c. 1886 in Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons.
