Pondering the Leap
Upon the ledge, the little poet at once young
Ponders the trusted universe
And love songs by poets sung
In forgotten meter and tender verse
Professing love with variables;
Bearing gifts: ethereal and tangible,
Comforts and attentions.
On a horse nearby, a second poet mentions,
“All love is good.”
The little poet, something about wood.
As three time zones exact tolls
From her own ledge a poet trusts the universe
While burning images onto souls
And composing searing passionate verse.
She accepts selectively gifts of the poet on the horse
And the little poet who stands, ledge crumbling
Beneath his feet, manufacturing balance before
A leap that could prove humbling.
Shortly the window may be gone.
The universe may move on.
Yet if the leap be made too soon
The the poet will likely miss the moon.
If only the famous cow would happen by
Leaping fantastic into the sky
Udder dangling like a great latex glove.
The poets wonder, “What is love?”
A great chunk breaks off each of the ledges,
Nudging them even nearer their edges.
Decide the poets must.
Time the universe to trust?