An edge can be reached after a long
journey yet once there spiraling
commences with the end swift,
sudden, always brutal.
Off the edge you spin
down into dark
waiting to rise,
to then look up with hope
and to take the path leading
upwards to Mt. Restoration
where soft edges embrace your return.
I've penned this 'mirrored nonet' in response to dverse's prompt to write a poem about edges and/or fringes. Having experienced these valleys and mountains myself I have found there is always hope, no matter how dark the abyss may be at the time. It is always a very difficult journey but eventually there is nowhere to go but up, and 'up' is usually one step at a time. I found that it is achievable to come up again.....