Brink of the Lower Falls

Grand Canyon of Yellowstone

Brink of the Lower Falls

There is a cusp
to every breath,

an edge space for awe
at the threshold of anything,

a pause
ungraspable as air,

alive,
electric,

a whisper
that you are at the brink

of falling,
and you were always meant

to fall.
So spill

beyond guardrails,
be recycled

as gasp,
recycled as mist,

recycled as rainbow,
as color filling your eyes

for the first time
again. 

The Prompt

I wrote this poem yesterday, reflecting back on my family’s visit to Yellowstone a few weeks ago. When I stood at the brink of the Lower Falls in the Grand Canyon of Yellowstone, I thought I might die of awe. It sounded like a good way to go—to be suddenly, spontaneously shattered by beauty. I didn’t die, obviously (and I’m glad!), but I like to think that maybe some fleck of my ego spilled into the river, crashed down the falls, and was recycled into a rainbow.

When I think of that waterfall, I still feel a little smaller, a little lighter, a little less convinced that I know anything, a little more amused by the notion that I’m separate from the rest of the world.

I hope your summer has held some similarly memorable moment—a moment of awe, connection, hilarity, kindness, fun, or deliciousness that still makes you smile.

If you would like a prompt to play with today, then I invite you to cast back a little ways in your memory. Pull up some recent lovely thing. Can’t find one? Then cast a little father back. It doesn’t have to be anything fancy—just something you deeply enjoyed and appreciated. A special moment with a loved one. An unusually delicious meal. A perfect sunset. Let yourself relive whatever loveliness comes to mind. Tap into all of your senses if you can. What were the sounds, tastes, textures, smells? How was your body positioned in space? Who or what else was there experiencing the moment with you?

It’s so natural to long for the next lucky break, the next vacation, the next weekend, next hike, or next evening out with friends. But so much past loveliness is stored in our bodies and in our minds already. Why not call it up? Why not bask in it for a moment? Why not see what poem is waiting there, stored in your cells?

If you’d like to share what you write, I’d love to read it! The same goes, of course, for any comments or reflections you care to offer up. Thank you for being here.

Listen to Brilliant Poetry! Share Your Own Poems!

For anyone who hasn’t already caught wind of this, LeeAnn Pickrell and I are hosting our third open mic for Substack poets. On Saturday, August 16 at 12:00 PDT/3:00 EDT. The event will kick off with readings from Kim Nelson, Shondra Bowie, Thomas Rist, and Weston Parker. After these featured readers, we’ll open the mic to anyone who would like to share a poem of their own. If you have been wanting to try an open mic but haven’t yet worked up the courage or found the time, then let us be the first to cheer for your poems! Or simply join in for the pleasure of listening and supporting others. If you would like to attend, please send me a DM or reply to this email, and I’ll send you the Zoom registration link. I hope to see many of you there!