How they became

We rise toward the freedom-peak, and summit at the clear survey, expecting higher scales to seek, but find that down’s the only way.

We clamber from the panic-crowd, and back away from every fate, retreating into empty clouds that snare our steps with hollow weight.

We fall right through the nothing-edge, and lucky if we catch upon ascending air that forms a ledge on which to furl and fossil on.

We wake to days that other’s don’t, and count the ways we’ve lived the same, contending that it can’t - it won’t - become of us how they became.