I was a pebble, small but strong.
From where I sat, I clearly saw my place, and
those around me knew me, as I did them—
as light as song and as sure as breath.
It was community,
a fixed place in a wide world of opportunities.
But time went on, moment after day after year, and the view widened ever more.
It became harder to see the edges as light blurred.
Waves beat and wind blew.
Some pebbles shifted right and left, front and back, up and down, and soon
familiar was a memory and
distance seemed farther away.
Did I get smaller and smaller, or did context get bigger and bigger?
The bigger has swallowed me up—my pebble self is a grain, unimportant and invisible in this big, wide world. And I thought all along I mattered.
Maybe I was never important.
Maybe there never was a…
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