Limit Testing
Inspired by Robert Browning and Robert Frost.
I have cleared the thorns.
I have crossed the snowy mountains,
burned through forests,
fought off looters in the dark.
My grasp has always exceeded my reach.
It has served me well.
It has carried me far.
Now two paths wait.
One is cut from stone,
with rails for tired hands,
and beyond it, a castle:
friends, exquisite parties,
rooms warm with easy light.
The other breaks open
over lava and demons,
over heat that names my fear.
But beyond it
there is a shimmer
I have never seen before.
And if I choose the safer road,
I know the question will follow:
Did my grasp exceed my nerve?
So I go on,
toward the edge,
toward the unknown measure,
to learn, at last,
what it means
for my reach
to exceed my grasp.
And when I finally reach that shimmer,
and see the jewels
which reflected impossible light,
having widened my grasp
around what once exceeded it,
I will build the road.
Not to prove I crossed.
Not to make the chasm tame.
But so others may see
the jewels as well.
Still, there is one road
whose build eludes me.
Not the road across the chasm,
not the road through fire,
not the road up the mountain.
But the road
to chase the shimmer.