not that thought,
that I still walk on the path –
that I still have the safe mountain wall
by my side –
that flowers grow there –
and that the grass muffles the hardness of the step –
that the cliff irradiates the heat of the sun –
but
this, that I know,
that I can take a misstep –
that there is an abyss –
that I must walk safely,
and that the mountain wall by my side
moved closer to the edge, the further I reach –
that the path gets harder,
and the stones sharper –
that the grass turns yellow,
when I approach the sun.