Perhaps

I stand poised -
I've used that line
before, and again
and again and
Again; there is much
comfort in my stasis.

I stand, bound to
the razor-sharpness of
this edge that holds me
delicately,
precariously;
my feet are bloodied.

And still I stand
longing to fall
to let go and
let be and speak my
fear, lay my shame
on altars that
are slick and slippery
with the eternity of sacrifices -
bowed and bent and broken
with desperation.
My eyes burn from
their smoke, ascending,
twisting heavenwards
to please You.

And still I stand,
and I stumble along
this narrow edge
of bloody hope
and I do not fall.
Perhaps I will get it
right this time.
Perhaps I will,
finally.
Perhaps.


For Psalm 51