485 Miles

by Jaime Schaffer

485 MILES

I am troubled.

Standing at the edge of a chasm 

between myself and myself,

I am troubled.

This dissociation is new,

yet a split so wide 

surely did not just happen.

I pinch myself.

I feel nothing.

I poke the spots I know to be vulnerable.

Still nothing.

A dream then. 

An overworking of imagination

brought near 

through suffering.

I drop a penny into the cavern 

to test the void.

It is endless.

Eternal.

Silent.

I call to myself.

Across the divide, 

an echo returns and sounds 

foreign to my ears.

Is it me?

Who else could be poised on the opposing precipice?

She looks stronger.

Less concerned about the gulf.

Sure.

Could the valley be passable?

I once found myself 

with my nose to a wall 

and knew there was no way through it.

I planned to turn aside 

to go around, 

but an arm reached down 

to pull me up and over.

Up and in.

Up and up.

A Sherpa.

A guide to the top 

of a mountain 

I never would have reached 

on my own.

I would have kept circling the mountain.

My other self knows something.

She has already crossed over.

She can see the view on the other side.

Her surety is rooted in experience.

I call to her again.

“How long will it take?” 

I ask.

Her echo sounds like laughter.

JAIME SCHAFFER

Jaime Schaffer is the founder of The Wren: A Home for Creatives, a budding community of church-going creatives who believe in the power of art to usher in the New Creation. She has been flying under the radar for decades, homeschooling her three sons and helping raise up a new generation of dreamers and makers. Her current endeavors include teaching medieval history and literature to a group of incredible and hilarious teenagers and renovating a house she and her husband have affectionately dubbed "The Hub." Her poetry has previously appeared in The Way Back to Ourselves Literary Journal and has been presented at various artist gatherings. Her IG profiles are @jlsorrels_schaffer and @ahomeforcreatives.