What if, what if? The words echo, just as reverberations of choices make their voices heard in next steps, in decisions subsequent. There are so many possibilities that it is impossible to know in the moment which one will lead to happiness and which to regret.
How many permutations exist in space, in time? I sit thousands of feet above the sea of Maybe, atop the mountain of Longing, slowly standing.
There are no fences along the edges, so I approach the precipice and jump.
For DVerse Prosery. Our given line is: “In space in time I sit thousands of feet above the sea” from May Sarton’s poem “Meditation in Sunlight.”
revivedwriter 
I hope there is a safe landing… it would be terrifying otherwise
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I know this is prose, Jenna, but it flows like poetry – beautiful…
Sincerely,
David
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I’ve paralyzed more than once in making decisions, and sometimes all there is to do is jump. Nicely done, Jenna.
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I hope that leaping body will be revived too, Jenna. Terrific angst-driven suspense and action… land softly now
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Sometimes you have to make that leap of faith. Lovely use of the prompt.
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The sea of Maybe–a place we all know only too well. But that’s the only way to begin, often. (K)
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A profound poem.
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Lovely writing! I suppose it is always a sea of Maybe–we never know anything for sure. Sometimes you just have to make that leap. Thank you for writing so beautifully to the prompt.
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A great leap of faith 💕
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