Endings

Every moment is a death; an ending. Every word uttered flowers only once and is gone forever as soon as it passes your lips. Every step taken simultaneously disappears as it comes forth. Every thought dies as it is birthed. Every moment is made just so, so that it will become manifest only once and never again. And so goes every moment of existence. There is nothing solid to grab hold of. Life is a perpetual string of endings…a perpetual string of deaths. Life is none other than death by another name. And death, life.

Do we grieve each word, as it dies into eternity as it is spoken? Do we grieve each step, as it fades behind us? Do we grieve each thought as it evaporates back into the void from which it came? Do we grieve each breath of air as it leaves our lungs? Do we grieve each birdsong as it disappears back into silence?

What you are is made up of all these precious endings, all these precious deaths. What you are is, in fact, a string of infinite deaths, dissolving before you ever even exist.