As she stood on the precipice, a gentle breeze floating over her skin, she reflected on her life and what could have been. 

A rambling path she had taken, not straight or bland. Her way had a rhythm but was rarely planned. 

As she stood on the precipice, the moon lit the way, to the next part of her adventure, begging her 'this way'. 

With a grace she alighted into the night, without fear she was falling but with a lightness of heart. 

Soon she was soaring into the next life, leaving behind all that was keeping her tethered. 

Her way was now clear to embrace what was true, we are all just the wave turning back to the ocean. 

It isn't just once we take her same course, but over and over we leap or are chosen. 

Some they will drown from fear of the fall, but some...

They will soar.