the iceberg

We are but a breath

a blip

a tip of a grand iceberg

Generations behind us

below us

propping us up

We stand with our chests out

puffed up

Convincing ourselves of our greatness

Our immortality

Atop this, this mountain of death

We are but a moment

So we strive and wrestle to stay

Here

at the tip

at the top of the iceberg

Beating our chests to the rhythm of our damning thoughts

Our insecurities

Our fears of obscurity

We beat louder to drown it out

Until the friction melts our souls

And we shrink

and slide

Gulping our last breath before we submerge

The water heavy

Our arms too tired from beating to fight the weight

But a hand catches us from the dark

and another

And the generations behind

and below

propping us up

pull us close

and push us up

to breathe our greatest breath

And our fears and insecurities

And our damning thoughts

Fall away, down, down

As the hands pull us away, up, up

Because it was never about

the top

It was about the holding close and reaching out

The sliding down and pulling back up

It was never about greatness

But goodness

And the warmth of it

calming our fears and insecurities and damning thoughts

Because obscurity was never the enemy

But isolation—that was the devil

We are but a breath

a blip

a piece of the most intricately connected mosaic