The Motion of Life

Breathe in, breathe out, repeat.

As I climb this field of boulders, my feet often slip on the slick weathered stone. I do not worry.

You are there with me.

On the snow-capped peak, the crisp wind unabated is a cold grasp of ice. I do not worry.

You breathe with me.

You whisper to the snow, and it follows us down like a tide’s ebb from the peak. I do not worry.

You flow with me.

At the vast ocean ahead, neither the sharp-toothed shallows nor the cold loneliness of the depths will keep you at bay. You take me down to my drowning yet lift me again. I do not worry.

You are me.

I understand that now, and I shall endeavor to bring life back to what it was.

Smooth.