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The Triangle
Standing there suspended
Between the heavens and
The abyss I am at the
Pinnacle of the Triangle
Time stands still my
Heart is in my throat
The spirit is willing
But my calculations are weak
Casting this fragile apparatus
Off the precipe
The rush of cool air
The thrill of adrenaline
I am following an parabol-ic
Path if only I
Could get my co-ordinates
Right I might transform
This one way trip to
A stable orbit somewhere
Beyond this light-cone - my
Focci approaching infinity
Thought I'd triangulated my position
But the hypoteneus curves
Spaceandtime warps my
evolving perspective
I am accelerating along
A 3-second path I cannot predict
Light itself appears to wrap around me
Until I am swallowed by the deep
When I finally surface again
Time and space have
Resumed but the vertigo
Of total relativity remains
Vertigo is no friend of hours
Vertigo is no friend of hours (sic) but time will tell.
here is poetry that doesn't always conform
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