Floating versus Falling

There is a clickbait article about whether the object is floating or falling. Hotly debated between two sides that cannot meet in a place of fluidity but shout as quickly as words form –
“Floating!”                “Falling!”
at each other, louder, and louder, and progressively louder. We are told a history of the object, but it does not contain our names, or the names of our ancestors. We do not even know it is lost until we are pressed under the cacophony of –
“Floating!”                “Falling!”
We have not been given tools to reclaim it from the water, but we attempt it, still. Silly, brave, inscrutable us. We strive and struggle, water sluicing up our arms and covering our necks until we give meaning to the object that we have lost, we place words around it –
“Floating!”                “Falling!”
and it becomes sensible to us. But we cannot touch it, we cannot smell or hear. We do not feel its beating heart or see its violent light. So, we do the best we can do. We light a votive candle, we fast in its name, we whisper a prayer, we burn incense, we cast its name into the darkness. Hope is our ignition.

“Not everything that is faced can be changed, but nothing can be changed until it is faced.”
–James Baldwin