SUMMIT

felt the shift

I couldn't hold you and no
one else is going to feel this
the way I am. You were on 
the end of the rope, and I held
tightly. I wrapped it around
every possible rock and emotional
space I could find. I connected
you to me, my energy and taking
the risk that losing you meant
losing me, too. 

I was determined to stay put like
that eternally and for as long as
you needed until you could either 
climb up the rope, swing to safety,
or have the rescue team pick you
up in their choppers. A dramatic
save, something adventurous and
dramatic, something that I think,
even in the risk of death, you might
have quite enjoyed.

But then, I felt it. The rope that
was tied around me--it was growing
too heavy, too constricting, and I
could feel the threads beginnings to
snap and fray. I knew something had
to be done right then so I wouldn't
lose you. So I prayed.

It's not something I often do, not
the way others expect me to. It was
my own personal power, my last
persuasive plea on behalf of your
swinging body. I am stubborn like
you, and was ready to fight and do
whatever it took to keep you alive.

I think as you dangled, you must
have noticed this. You must have
looked up at me where I wrestled
with this rope from a higher ledge
and with soft realization and gentle-
ness, grew an awareness of what 
was happening, and how I was doing
everything possible in my power
to save you. Somewhere deep inside
your bones, like an intuitive call or
an eternal understanding, you knew
what needed to happen.

So you let go.

I felt the shift in the weight immediately,
and by the time I could scramble to look
over the ledge, you were gone, down into
the abyss that borrows forever what is mine.