Letting Go To Hold On

You lay upon that ledge of death and grabbed
My hand, I begged you not to let it go,
But saw the razor edge of breath that stabbed
And thus released your fettered soul. I know
I was a fool, distracted by a cloud
That wept above your ledge to frame this scene
In hills of sorrow, graying, heavy browed
Through winds of comfort blowing in between.
But now I understand my fall was best
Toward this grand abyss of life, was shown
You earned your lofty ledge of death, so rest;
And I shall climb to one that is my own.
I see now that the tears of that cloud
Were rains of mercy we were both allowed.

Post Categories: Poetry, Sonnet

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