Our bloody knees attest,
Despite our apparent mobility,
We’ve never learned to walk
Without falling down.
We stumble forward over the earth
Dragging our wreckage behind us.
Adding insult to injury
Seems to be our most cherished pastime
As we crash through to the future.
This ability to fall down
Is, perhaps, our saving grace?
If we pay attention
It keeps the playing field level,
Gives us the opportunity to offer a hand,
To accept one on our way back to our feet.
It gives us the vantage point
To notice the mess we’ve made.
It slows us down, giving time
To consider where we want to go from here,
How, maybe, we might want to do things different?
Amen.
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