The Edge

Somtimes I wonder
What it would be like
To be on the edge
Tottering precariously
Between the boundry
Of life and death
Watching the sun set
The day dies
Giving birth to night
Swallowing everything whole
Only to be conquered again
By the brightness
Each day a cycle
Walking a fine line
Between existance
And nothingness
It all spins around
And I find myself
Again, I am confused
How does one make sense
Out of the muddled
Jumbled spin cycle
That is the world
Perhaps one needs
To stand on the edge
And find some way
Not to fall

    -- Bem Ajani Jones-Bey (04/10/02)