On Flying

There’s a void that follows a great victory,

That weightless dropping through the air after you jumped out of the plane.

For a moment, suspended miles above, a faltering fear,

That chute might catch on the way up or not catch on the way down.

That breathless hanging, plummeting along with gravity,

A question of your wisdom in stepping out into the open air.

That heart-stopping rush as you fall to meet your fate,

Accepting the illusion of control and giving way to complete abandon.

Riding the wind to the precipice of fear,

Where it cracks, breaks, sail unfurls, and you soar.