I stand on the edge <br />of what seems a deep abyss, <br />with your gentle rhythmic sound <br />that I hold to my inmost breast <br />and quietly in my mind I say <br />' I will cleave to you come what may'. <br />You take flight with such subtle sound <br />as by this thought you are unbound. <br />You take me by the hand, <br />not falling we soar into another land <br />pure radiant light and stillness <br />all around abounds. <br /> <br />Left standing on the edge <br />a mind of discontent <br />and body straight not bent. <br />Our journey halts in just being <br />with sure and certain knowing <br />not separate from I, no different <br />as much as any difference <br />could give rise to an experience. <br />The knowing did not say, just knew <br />there is no death or birth, <br />no essence that returns to dusty earth. <br /> <br />And he left standing on the edge, <br />the one that made a pledge. <br />He will do as he must <br />until life's force is fully spent <br />and the mortal body returns to dust. <br />just as, of course, it must. <br /> <br />Returning to the mortal mind <br />waiting at the edge of that abyss <br />it says it is not my domain, <br />in this mind it has no name. <br />Live where you will <br />in my world of discursive thoughts <br />or leave me far behind, <br />wed to that gentle rhythmic sound <br />that beats in regions where <br />this mind of mine just is not found <br />where the heart it has its home <br />but this mind, it cannot go.<br /><br />David Taylor<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-pledge-on-the-edge/
