Finding A Ledge

Oh, I remember

standing in a safe distance

watching them play the risk to the edge,

wondering of the five there,

two over near,

a dozen way beyond the fence,

were any one

vulnerable,

wondering just really curious about the edge,

the immediacy of leaving behind

memory and travels.

~

I’ve stood on many a ledge

decades of indecision,

yet somehow the gravel maintained

my grip,

or I got a call for a dinner reservation,

turned around, walked away,

and the thought drifted off the edge.

~

Have you ever had a sort of quiet peace,

knowing there are those ledges

each of us

can share together,

rather than having to imagine

too much fear,

far too much confusion,

might bring us back upon

some lonely ledge.

~

The truth is,

not every ledge has room for

alone.


© Thom Amundsen 12/2020

Choosing An Edge

Republished on the recovery blog:

Dan The Story Man

I’m an addict,

my therapist told me,

edges are fun.

When first I discovered my ‘affliction’

as it is oft times referred,

I chose anger first to help unveil

the true emotions buried.

That was certainly the beginning

of a long relationship

with denial,

many edges,

from blade to blade,

to ledge, to choice, to reprimand.

I have experienced the fleeting nature of impulse

enough to wish to disregard sound advice.

I have climbed upon  the wall of despair,

hopeful somewhere along the way,

I might find an opening, or a reason to slip.

My therapist told me

edges are fun.

I find that to be true

whenever

the trigger seems right in the palm

of my hand,

the vehicle toward

satisfying my edge.

I am a fortunate addict today,

I’ve managed to blur the edge,

well enough to overcome

those crisp shiny endeavors

occasional tricks fo the trade,

labels

insidious

powerful

cunning

ah, the simple solution to the edge,

is certainly

choosing the edge of recovery.

… safe landings …

~

artist found on pinterest – albert handell