Letting Go

Crouched under the wing,
Hanging tightly to the strut,
The only thing I notice is the wind and cold sweat.
I’ve been assured the static line will open the parachute.

I can see the instructor hanging out the door,
Of the small propeller plane,
Using aerodynamics to defy gravity,
A couple thousand feet above the ground.
His mouth is moving,
Something about, 
“Let go, let go.”

Clinging to the metal strut,
I wonder why I am in this position,
I wonder what is going to happen,
If I let go?

How many times have I been here?
Asking Julie to prom,
Stressing over a presentation for four hundred people,
Sleepless nights deciding on firing a good person that is in the wrong job.

That’s the thing about letting go,
It’s so much easier after you’ve done it.