Saturday, July 11, 2009

Be Careful Or You’ll Fall Off The Cliff

"Watch out for the edge," my mama said,
"The cliffs are too steep for you to be careless.”

I tried to pay attention and walked along the inside curve,
but the horizon attracted my attention.
I drifted close to the border that separated my
footsteps from the chasm and certain death.
One misstep and I could tumble into the abyss.

"Be careful," she said waking me from my reverie.

I wondered what my demise would tell about my life
on that clear afternoon on the hills outside Los Angeles.

Sooner or later I’m going to cross the threshold to death.
I could be safe at home and choke on a bone,
killed crossing the street in my own neighborhood,
or here on the hills among the chaparral
hanging from a branch before falling to nothingness.

"What a way to go," I said, "better to be a part of life,
rather than standing on the sidelines.
Best to experience living with all its danger
rather than holding back because
there is a chance I'll slip and fall."

"Don’t expect me to take care of you if you don’t listen," she said,
“Life isn’t only about you, it is also about your relationships.
You force others to make choices by your actions.
I’ve raised you to adulthood and in my list of things to do
I don't expect to bury you if you get killed through careless action."

"Yes, mama,” I said
moving back from the edge,
gasping for some air,
accepting boredom as my way of life.

I died before her anyway.

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