a daring leap

Time has come, I feel, to take
a daring, death-defying leap. Unfortunately,

I find myself upon a vast and level ground
of grass and dirt. Pretty soft, even if I
took a running start to build up speed
and tripped and sprawled, there's not
much chance of hurt beyond raw scraped
palms, an elbow, hip, or bursting ache
of lungs from wind knocked out. Or if
I didn't trip, I'd only

safely land. A distance I could have just
walked.

There are no ditches, cliffs or even trees
to climb, which would anyway look dumb. Climb
a tree to daringly jump out of it? Landing
where I was. No, the sort of daring leap

I feel the need to make

is one that will land me
where I couldn't possibly get,
except by dint of great risk
and heart-in-throat vertigo,
seeing where I need to go,

imagining myself across
already landed, soft
and solidly

before I hit the air.

I guess I'll take
a death-defying walk or something, daring
the landscape

to jut
or loom
or yawn

in present
obstacle to

somewhere

I couldn't have
gone.