A Poem By Rebecca Gonzales

Approaching the Horizon (1993)

We reach an edge,
an edge where the horizon
is pink with promise.

We reach the edge
with fear;
promises can be suspect.

We reach an edge.
Who knows how to approach such landmarks?
Who can measure caution with warranty?

We bring no words to a horizon.
We have no understanding of tomorrow,
Whatever petty tragedy it brings.

Thought at the edge is not a voice;
it’s an echo.
The echo comes not from the other side.

No, the edge is only
an illusion.
And, after all, fear has no voice.

The echo is our own,
Returning a fear
That springs from us to save us.

As the bark of a golden retriever
Fuels his courage to keep going as long as he hears
his own echo.