Black Water

I am on the edge of depression,

Knees pulled up to my chin,

My toes inch closer to the black water.

I can almost feel it lapping at my feet.

But there is also the breeze,

The branches of the willow tree

Swaying gracefully, whispering softly;

The birds singing their playful tune.

I tip my toes forward and feel the chill.

It shoots up my legs, my body, aims for the heart.

I gasp, my heart quickens, then slows.

I don't pull away, don't see how I could.

The willow branches reach out to me,

The breeze becomes wind, pushing me back,

My eyes close, my toes dig in, rooted there.

I stay until I feel nothing at all.