from which we are falling still
a height we only realize we won
by such continuous falling from
love let us climb it never felt like
an incline to find it waiting up ahead
it led us in among the aspen
to the spring where it was born
we saw it was always freshly forlorn
weeping with laughter always torn
it was the first of several signs
but on we climbed to a flowering field
where love returned us to ourselves
lacking the full capacity to yield
at once began our long decline
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