Future blog post by Mike Cowan

Coming soon.

The ground rushes up, a dizzying sight, A sudden drop, a plunge into the night. The rope, a lifeline, taut and thin and strong, A silver thread, where I don’t belong.

The wind screams past, a howling, icy blast, A dizzying spin, a moment overcast. My stomach lurches, fear a bitter sting, But the rope holds firm, a reassuring thing.

The ground gives way, a fleeting, distant blur, Then the rope pulls tight, a sudden, jarring stir. The fall arrested, momentum checked, A dizzying swing, my senses wrecked.

The world hangs still, a moment of release, Then the gentle sway, a comforting peace. The rope, my anchor, steady and so sure, A lifeline strong, forever I’ll endure.

This poem explores the physical and emotional sensations of falling while attached to a rope, emphasizing the fear, the loss of control, and the ultimate relief of being caught.