Sitting on a Shelf

Sitting on a shelf
cool, granite slabs
at my feet
the feeling that gravity
has no power in this place,

Sitting on a shelf
my feet dangling over
what others might fear
a precipice, an emptiness
a vastness, of which no bottom
existed,

Sitting on a shelf
no cares, nor worries
the grandeur of heavenly skies
surrounding my air spaces
feeling light as a feather,
with no heavier intentions, than that

Sitting on a shelf
towering spires over my head
mossy instances, clinging flowers
the sun baked the moment
the cooler recesses beckoned,

Sitting on a shelf
perched above forever spaces
an eternity calling
to others, just not me
while I shared a quiet moment
in these mountains, everlasting

Just sitting
on a shelf…