Some of us are running across the coals
as others clap
I put on my blindfold on and I am carefully led-

To the edge, where I sway and listen

I hear Canadian geese off in the distant
A weak call of ‘we are here for the winter’
I saunter back on my path

Unsteady and lurching-
My Kilimanjaro-
These soft hills

Yet, it is starting to feel like home-
Within

It is simple as
handprints on a cave-

This desire not to crash and burn
A simple desire to build our HELLOs
Into
Bridges.