I was once terrified,
scared of heights and falling into an endless abyss.
Even the ride up the mountain grew fear inside me,
until eventually, I stood over the slope
aptly called Angel Street,
as friends shouted cries of delight
heading towards the icy steeps that lay below.
Poles waved and edges screeched
a non-slow motion movie with all the sound effects
of a skier concentrating,
on that edge of fear and excitement,
where fear has lost to courage.
Meanwhile, I remain transfixed watching them go.
Until at last it was me,
just me alone.
The last skier disappeared from view
now invisible to me, as the wind blast on my face gave me one more reason to worry.
Only one way down now.
Suddenly, I found myself, leaning out,
embracing the steepness of the slope,
ice and all, with the rhythm of a dancer.
My skis were full of traction as if mesmerized,
not just controlling my speed, but bouncing with merriment as if alive.
My spirit was lifted, as I realized I was not alone out here in nature,
making an icy slope something of beauty
to be enjoyed, savored and enveloped.
Do I now have a new strength, confidence, skill?
No, rather, God is with me, and that is all.
Making me not just use my learnings, but be at one with them … and Him.