nothing is sound

the jumping man said

from the edge of a bridge

fear-frozen onlookers

and slack-jawed tourists

not understanding

offering counseling

while wondering

if they should get a picture

before the leap

sounds seemed to slow

he told me later

from the other side of a table

in a white-walled room

his voice echoed

inviting me in

to share his famous flight:

sounds overwhelm me

tidal waves

pulling me under

merciless rip-tides

drag hope away

while the current whispers

let go, let go

today, the day for goodbyes

sounds crash above me

till I'm below

overwhelmed and deaf

ears filled with salty tears

(the ocean had a bad day

the jumping man insists

can't you hear her cry?)

everything muted

message blurred by

submarine gloom

drifting further away

sounds abandon me to silence

look to shore, he says

you've one last glance

can you see yourself

needlessly struggle unaware

trying to fight for breath

at the empty surface

when the peace you seek

is deeper down

sound converged

the promise of peace


I take one last look

at my surface-self

grappling for greatness

as I fall

what is greatness anyway?

the impact asks

sound envelops me

taking me to where

everything is worse and better

in the moment of descent

more and less mix

like past and prospect

swirling together into a silent

unnecessary now

as nothing becomes everything

just as the jumping man said

taking my hand

with a promise

and everything is sound