I Am Present to Mortality

Your hand in mine. The breeze kisses my cheek. A catch in my breath - the thump, thump, thump, thump of my racing heart. I gaze at your face, to take it all in, to savor you as you are now. The edge seems high, but the jumping may be worth the fear. Words are borne into the air - on to the paper - I don’t want to waste them. Pause. Breathe. I can honor these seconds, these minutes, this day.

Would I miss all of life if I knew it would go on forever? Would living be special if not for mortality? If time was not a luxury would everything else about living lose its golden gleam?

Maybe we get to be immortal through the marks we make - marks of a life lived.

But wouldn’t we live differently if the breathing in of fresh air was forever; if the jump wasn’t a risk; if I didn’t have to worry that one day you might not be in my arms?

I think we wouldn’t breathe as deep; we wouldn’t love as strong; we wouldn’t make marks worth remembering.

If it wasn’t for mortality, would we every truly live?