Ready

There is a rising expectancy

A hold-your-breath

gathering in,

 at the edge

that drops away

ten thousand feet

and ten thousand more.

A moment--

just that one,

that separates you from

everything else.

You hold yourself so

still,

so poised.

There's a heartbeat's difference

between waiting

and ready,

a heartbeat,

a moment,

the distance between

breaths,

You have walked the ten thousand steps,

and ten thousand more,

an eternity of steps

to cross that narrow distance,

to stand in hushed--

in rising

expectancy.

To leap into that moment,

to complete that breath,

to bridge the distance

between waiting

and God.

To stand

in grace,

in quiet stillness,

in breathless wonder,

on the other side of waiting.

And you gather in those tethers

that have shackled you

You gather them

and let them fall,

cracked and dusty and rusted through.

A breath.

A heartbeat.

A moment that stretches into

the rest of forever

(and then some)

And then

you leap.

Ready.