disaster or fortune?

This is how it feels to look over the edge,
this is not a suicidal poem about leaping to one’s own end,
but a reflection on the nature of fear,
picture if you will a 50,000 foot high cliff,
adorned with barren trees stripped naked and rocks worn from centuries of abuse from the wind.
The clouds cover the depth before you as your eyes gaze downward following the swirling spirals.
Your toes moving slightly trigger pebbles to fall,
skittering down the mountainside disappearing in the mist.
The cold chill breeze forces you to hold yourself tighter,
arms wrapped around your body it doesn’t seem like enough and your cheeks flush from the wind.
edging towards the end of the cliff you wonder if the clouds will swallow you,
leaning back balance takes you from behind and soon the blood is rushing towards your head,
the cliff growing in distance slowly centers itself in your eye and then is enveloped in a Grey cloud cover,
is this the end?
no, its the beginning,
the air speeds past your head in a relentless roar,
every feeling of sadness and despair is 50 feet back and unknowingly a smile spreads your face.
fingers outstretched wind streams through and suddenly you have the intuition that you can control their direction.
you shift your hands and open your eyes in a never ending free fall,
a slight movement changes your course,
outstreching your arms the wind catches and your body tumbles upwards,
grey mists rush past your sight and you are greeted by the greatest sun you’ve ever seen,
radiant light envelopes the atmosphere and the rays warm every pour on your skin.
like Icarus you’ve dared to burn your wings,
fly on.