It’ll be okay, you tell yourself,
or so you hope.
You step forward and raise your head.
You feel an arm linked in yours
Holding you up and
letting you go.
The cliff ends, beckoning you forward.
You now stand on the edge,
teetering between either past or present
And as you leap over and fall, you feel the pressure
of a new hand in yours,
softening the fall into the new waters.