I am captivated by the ebb and flow of existence; the comings and goings that stitch the fabric of our days. Each breath, a silent witness to life’s fleeting dance, marks the rhythm of a world in constant motion. The rise and fall, a testament to the cycles that govern us — the heartbeat of the cosmos in the chest of humanity.

The push and pull, a force as old as time, propels the cars that rush by in a steady stream, each a vessel of stories untold. Hellos and farewells punctuate our journeys, brief encounters that shape the narrative of our lives. And in the interlude between the beginning and the end, we find ourselves — each moment a definitive mark, like a set of quotation marks enclosing our shared experiences.

Yet, in this perpetual motion, I ponder the paradox of pain and pleasure. Why do arrivals, with their promise of new beginnings, never sting with sorrow? Why do departures, with their inevitable sense of loss, always leave a trail of ache? Perhaps it is the finality that departures herald, the closing of a chapter that once was open, the realization that some things, once gone, are gone forever.

It is in these reflections that I find beauty — a poignant reminder that it is the depth of our connections that gives weight to our goodbyes. For without love, without the bonds that tether us, departures would be but a mere whisper in the wind, unnoticed and unfelt.

Copyright © Beatriz Esmer

Dry Pastel Art