I step up to the stairs.
I stare at the top, surveying the silver zipline.
It reaches across a gap;
a fall of thirty feet.
My hesitation is vivid and apparent.
My harness is on. Everything seems loose.
I ascend.
My turn is here.
They check to see if my harness is secure.
I make my worst mistake.
I look
down.
The grove of greenery shines below me.
The gap of infinity is mentally highlighted between me and the ground.
I crawl back, taking note of my exits.
I sense the scent of the spring air with a hint of terror.
My hands tremble as I grab onto the rope.
It is time to let go.
The pressure between the platform and I make it unbelievably difficult to let go.
However, I have no other choice.
I lift up my feet.
All of my trust is held by a rope.
I accelerate down the path of the zipline.
I soar through the air, passing grass and water over two dozen feet under my body.
My hands, however, are holding on to the brown, twisty rope
as hard as they possibly can.
But I feel free.
I am free from the doubt, the worry, the fear.
I am free.