Birth is the apex,
the pinnacle,
the summit.
From the very beginning,
we fall.
With our first breath,
we begin slipping,
sliding downward
toward our demise.
The downslope—
steep for some,
shallower for others,
inevitable for all.
There is only one direction: down.
Down,
into shadows of despair,
down,
into realms of possibility,
down,
into clouds of uncertainty—
no way to steer clear.
Even as we fall,
we catch glimpses:
fleeting echoes of laughter,
footprints of dreams,
whispered tales
of times when we soared.
These glimmers of fleeting joy
remind us that even in our fall,
we have loved deeply.
For every tear shed,
there are smiles shared,
a vibrant fabric of memories
that softens the burden
of our inevitable decline.
Some struggle,
some resist,
many pray,
most attempt to persist—
perhaps slowing,
possibly delaying,
but never stopping
the descent.
Down,
careening into the void.
Down,
spiraling into bliss,
always downward,
ever downward.
Navigating shadows,
we hold hands,
find hearts to connect with,
reminders that we never
take the plunge alone.
We are tragic nomads
pondering the weight
of each choice we make
discovering context within the journey.
each step down
revealing something we hold dear
taking us downward
into deeper comprehension.
© 2025 Bruno Talerico
Stafford challenge day 24/365.
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