I fell, but then I was standing. How many falls have you taken? Really, how many? And you’re still here? Upright and alive? Notice that when a tree collapses it actually rises, it becomes a towering castle for chipmunks, a mountain peak for fungi, a floating planet for ants, and a universe for poets searching to transcend the gravity of their lives. Falling is a change of form, but not substance.
This poem tiene muchos simular a como vivimos nuestras vida. Nos caemos y nos levantsmos con mas fuerza para seguir cresciendo y espandir nuestros raises. Magnifico poem
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