Pushed into the deepest waters,
Where an alligator waits below,
Its patience sharpened by certainty—
Every fall ends the same.
A hanging stem appears,
Thin as hope, fragile as chance.
Upward goes the climb,
Toward light, toward air,
Toward the promise of escape.
Yet each time the surface nears,
The stem is cut.
Down again into the depths,
Where survival demands another leap.
From one stem to another,
From one chance to the next,
Never knowing which will hold.
Sometimes the next lifeline
Turns out to be a snake’s tail—
Grasped in desperation,
Only to awaken anger,
Its fangs ready to strike.
Still, the journey continues.
Around and around the circle goes—
Climbing, falling, reaching, enduring.
Fresh air brushes the face for a moment,
Only for unseen hands
To push the struggle back into darkness.
When stems fail,
Roots become refuge.
When roots loosen,
Another hold is found.
When danger strikes,
Another path appears.
Such is life.
Not a straight road to safety,
But a wilderness of uncertain footholds,
Where fate tests every grip,
Every step,
Every hope.
The miracle is not reaching the top.
The miracle is continuing to climb
After every fall,
Holding on through every storm,
Refusing to surrender to the depths—
While the alligator waits,
The snake hisses,
The stems break,
And still—
the roots remain.
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