Sometimes you have to get up really high
                to understand how small you really are.
                I’m going home now.

                                –Felix Baumgartner

To behold
the curvature of the Earth
and believe
your feet could touch the ground…

From the ship
into stars
down through space
and too-thin air
a whole wide world
land and sea
continents
and sovereignties
falling free
midst feathery cloud
charging through
the barrier of sound
then a parachute
deployed at last
the magic of flight
and landing safe.

Can you teach me
how to love again?
Can you show me how to have faith
again?

Paradise is a distant planet
whose gravity I hope I’m still in
but that would require the release
of all the things pulling me away.
Weather balloons of fear and imposter
drag me toward a realm of empty
whilst the risk of falling to death
keeps me frozen on the final steps.

It’s in the girl across the bar
who I never find nerve to speak to.
It’s the open office door, the boss
who might do nothing with my problems.
It’s the novel still floundering in infancy,
files left closed, locked by writer’s block.

Yet here is a man
who leapt toward the Earth from the stratosphere
while I quiver in fear from a lie
that I will never be enough.
Here is a man
breaking the sound barrier without engine
while words I need to say die
in my throat or on my fingertips.
Here is a man
generating a sonic boom in body alone
when I can’t even make her phone ring
or utter a question for her to answer.
How can I call myself a man–
how can I promise to love and protect her
when the hardest thing I’ve ever had to say is
can I take you out to dinner?

Can you teach me
how to be brave again?
Can you show me how to be strong
again?

Can the fearful and the faithless ever find a way
to collide in realms of eternal creation?
Can a brought-low man ever pull back together
a life he long-ago thought lost?

Behold, the curvature of the Earth–
she is so beautiful, isn’t she?
I look up for guidance from the man
who jumped from space and lived.
I want to go home now.