The Edge

I stand alone in darkness.
Before me is a circle, huge. . .filled with light.
The center, like the sun burning bright.
Holding peace. Holding me.

I almost feel it. . .barely feel it,
but its edge won’t set it free.

Like the darkness that I stand in. . .it is bound.

If I can but reach in and touch it or tear it open wide,
I would see what the darkness cannot hide.
But if I tried to force it, would tear apart my mind.
I must somehow reach through softly;
Slip past unknowingly.
If I can but reach in and touch it,
I could be what burns behind.

I stand before the heart of me,
but its edge won’t set it free.

© Cheryl Taul
November 9, 1995