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.