The Grip of Life

Sometimes life doesn’t knock—
it grabs.

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The heart clenches like a fist has closed around it.
Not to crush, but to awaken.

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It drags up everything at once:
the weight of years carried,
the solitude survived,
the faces I still love,
the sunlight breaking an ordinary sky.

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And in that grip, I remember:
this is it.
Not rehearsal. Not tomorrow.
This.

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The hold loosens,
but the truth stays.
Life is beautiful,
because I can feel it seize me.