On the precipice

Leaping into faith

On the precipice.

Arms swing.

Needles pierce the stomach.

Nostrils flare.

Legs dive into the fullness of the void.

Wind cuts the eyes.

The whoosh of being swallowed in infinity drowns the noise.

Blood pounds in the eardrums.

Hair on end.

Every nerve an antenna.

Every pore a megaphone of joy.

This the leap of faith, the nearness of God.

About this entry

You’re currently reading “On the precipice,” an entry on J. Randal Matheny

Published:
17.02.08 / 12pm
Category:
God and faith