Fall from grace by Jim Vaughn

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I sat in a tree one sunny day, the branches looked sturdy as my resolve to better myself was.
I slowly inched my way out on a large branch, it was thick and showed the limbs of growth that had accumulated throughout its lifetime.
As I edged out I heard the quiet whisper of creatures that called this place home, It was a sound which was joyous and lilting, it made my soul peaceful.
I sat and contemplated the micro world I had wandered into, I thought to myself that the birds should be apprehensive about the looming change of season yet they weren't.
The squirrels should be gathering food I thought, yet they were prancing around the tree as if it were great amusement to them.
As I sat with the sun kissing my face I felt peace, the spell of the moment had taken me over.
I looked out in the distance and saw clouds building on the horizon, I noticed the breeze that had been so gentle, was gathering force.
The swaying of the branch was entrancing, I became swept up in the motion not seeing the danger of the moment.
Somewhere in the distant land of my mind I heard a cracking sound, I looked unconsciously for the cause, but not seeing it, I let it drift into the day.
Now rested and feeling connected to the world I had happened upon, I turned to crawl back to the trunk of this mighty giant.
I slowly inched my way back as I had done earlier that day, when a crack appeared in the branch I had been resting on.
It grew as I inched my way towards it, I prayed to my god that he would not allow harm to befall me on a day of such revelation.
Before I could reach the trunk, the branch broke with a mighty sound, like a cannon shot, I careened downward.
I swore oaths of ignorance to a god that would not hear my cries for help, I swore allegiances, with deities which never before existed in my world.
Yet the downward spiral continued, besides myself with fear I screamed for absolution for whatever the transgressions I had made for this to happen to me, Yet my screams were drown out in my mind by the clarity of truth.
All things that look sturdy and staunch, just look that way, they are afflicted with the same decay that a mans soul is, the beautiful greenery is no different than the eloquence of the words a man may speak, yet have no more strength than the rotted core of the branch that had deceived me.
Many worlds exist on the same plane as man and have as much importance as the inhabitants that exist there do.
Life is comprised of seclusion and inclusion at the same time, yet life is also all that exists which you see and more beyond what you know.
As my fall hastens me closer towards my demise I see how clearly that changing course is as simple as not accepting what you see as real and as complicated as seeing what you feel.
Before I complete my downward journey, let me instill upon you the simple fact that freedom is essential, love is required, and passion for the unknown makes everyday new.