Nature gives no warnings.

The glacier crumbles under warm rain. The earth cracks and opens, spewing hot lava from fissures into the clean air. In this world of wonders, great tides take our feeble houses, without warning. We are left with nothing, save an awe of the earth’s aliveness. Dare I make a spectacle of the sun? Or of these hands who soft flesh may merely fumble a small stone? As I pause on the cliffside to listen to the ancient glacier crack and groan, a flash of white fire explodes into the resting rocks and damp moss. A reminder that this human lifespan is a blitz. Here and gone. What to make of it? A choice to carry on up the slippery mountain face with legs trembling like a fawn’s. Find solace in an alm, where a jolly pink-cheeked farmer serenades love songs and cries tears when a young maid sings of wars and heroes fallen. Live for glory. Live for love. Live for the majesty of life. Or live for nothing at all.

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