Upon the precipice of expression, there lies a word, unvoiced and ethereal. It is not adorned with the grandeur of eloquence, nor does it bask in the light of common understanding. This word is a silent envoy of the heart’s deepest alcoves, a mere whisper of the spirit’s stirring.

It is the embodiment of paradox, a word that provokes a tempest within the soul’s quietude. It is the ache of remembrance, the sharp pang of longing that carves hollows in the chest. Yet, in its embrace, it is also the harbinger of exultation, filling the void with a resonance that speaks of life’s intricate tapestry.

This word, though mute to the world, sings a poignant melody to the one who bears its weight. It is the intimate dance of sorrow and bliss, a testament to the profound truth that in the midst of life’s profoundest grief, there blooms the most radiant joy.

For in the acknowledgment of our shared existence, in the recognition of our collective journey through the spectrums of emotion, we find the essence of connection. It is a word unspoken, yet it resonates with the frequency of being, a silent affirmation that, despite all, we are here, we are alive, we exist.

Copyright © Beatriz Esmer