the wild edge of longing

there is a song that calls you in
it has always been so
it will always be so

this song is unlike anything else in the world
and only you can hear it

sometimes, it will be clear
and you can follow it

sometimes, you will lose the song
in all the noise
of the world

if you choose to listen to this song
trust it
and follow it, wherever it goes
this poem is for you

you are now on the high road
of longing
a few steps down this path
and you will realize
you are standing on the edge
of a knife

obsidian sharp, cutting right to the core
of you

on either side of this terrifying truth
is a story
waiting to catch you, blanket around your
shoulders, hot drink
in hand

reassuringly leading you back to where you
strayed from
back to the comforting noise
of the world

if you somehow manage to stay
up there
both feet rooted in this
awful knowing
this poem is for you

the wild edge of longing
will cut you to the bone
and deeper still
split you marrow-wide
reduce you to the prima materia –
the raw organic pulp
of life 

the wild edge of longing
will unravel every frayed scrap
of safety
and comfort
you have managed to stitch together
for yourself
in this cold, ungenerous world

the wild edge of longing
will utterly devastate you
incinerate everything you thought you knew
about the world
and your place in it
render you down to a single potent drop
of Grief

and why would you stay on this wild edge?

because this is where your song has led you
   no other reason

if you are still reading this
as blood pools around
your feet
this poem is, obviously
for you

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