The End Game

What a surprise, entirely unforeseen and
unexpected. Our long and amicable relationship
appears to be ebbing, trust now overtaken by
suspicion and fearful anticipation of what lies
ahead in the increasingly uncertain future of
our long agreement to function viably as a
wholesome entity dedicated to survival. We were
among the fittest, now ambling inevitably toward
unthinkable redundancy; what happened?

True, all things are destined to come to
an end in the infinite cycle of nature's
renewal formulae. But there is this about
the human mind, that it is designed cleverly
to deflect musing on the inconvenient
conclusions leading inextricably to the finite;
in this instance, the prescribed trajectory
of longevity. We would much prefer to
consider our right of existence be inviolable.

Nature, alas, has deemed otherwise. She has
invested deeply in recycling and renewal,
reformulating and refurbishment. We, on
the other hand, so long accustomed to considering
ourselves indestructible, banishing thoughts of
morbidity and mortality, must suddenly initiate
unpleasant introspection when robust health
descends into physical insecurity, our bodies
and minds betraying trust and purpose in
nature's unending need to recycle resources.