If you are English, you can go directly to the English version 👉 HERE
Puente entre mundos.
Lo que observo más allá de la imagen
Prompt de la iniciativa.
Veo una escalera esculpida en piedra, profundamente desgastada por innumerables pasos que han dejado su huella a lo largo de los siglos. Los peldaños, deformes y hundidos en el centro, parecen haber sido moldeados por una eternidad de pies cansados, aferrados al instinto de ascender. Las paredes altas y cercanas, ásperas, mantienen la penumbra con los secretos de épocas remotas. La luz, casi etérea, se filtra desde lo alto, prometiendo un escape, un renacer o simplemente un descanso tras la fatiga de la subida. Cada marca y curva habla del paso del tiempo y de la fragilidad humana ante la inmensidad de la historia.
Lo que me hace sentir la Imagen
En el instante en que la imagen se posa sobre mis ojos, emerge una sensación de miedo difícil de explicar, como si ese rastro erosionado en la piedra fuera el eco de miles de vidas confrontando aquello que más temían: lo desconocido. Siento incertidumbre, una especie de temblor interno, entre la oscuridad que me retiene y esa luz lejana que insinúa esperanza, pero que también puede revelar más desafíos. Es imposible no pensar en mi propio presente, en esas épocas confusas, donde el mundo parece un pasillo angosto y gastado, y cada paso es un acto de valentía hacia un futuro incierto. La soledad de las piedras, la ausencia de voces, refuerzan la convicción de que la escalera es tanto un símbolo de ascenso como de vulnerabilidad.
La Anécdota Detrás de la imagen
Dicen que las piedras recuerdan. Yo, al pie de esa escalera erosionada, sentí el peso de todas las historias que nunca se contaron. Cada peldaño era una duda bajo mis pies, un suspiro de alguien que, siglos antes, subía con sueños, con miedos, con la esperanza sencilla de alcanzar la luz.
El aire, pesado y frío, olía a antigüedad y a secretos jamás revelados. Sentía que mis pasos se sumaban a un desfile infinito: comerciantes egipcios, sacerdotes, algún niño curioso, todos condenados a ese tránsito de sombras hacia lo desconocido. El silencio lo decía todo—la ausencia de voces era un estruendo en mis oídos, y mis propias respiraciones resonaban como oraciones olvidadas.
En la cima, un destello me cegó. No era la luz del día común; era el brillo de la promesa, o quizá del final. Dudé. Pensé en volver atrás, pero algo me impulsó a continuar, a desafiar ese vértigo que solo se experimenta al abandonar la comodidad de la penumbra. La incertidumbre me perseguía, como si la propia escalera me advirtiera: “Toda ascensión es un riesgo, pero también la única manera de romper el círculo.”
No sé cuánto duró el ascenso, ni qué hallazgos me esperaban arriba. Solo sé que, al cruzar el umbral y abrazar la luz, comprendí que el miedo nunca fue el verdadero enemigo. Era solo el guardián, el último reto antes de abrazar mi pequeña eternidad.
Quizá esta escalera sea la salida de una pirámide milenaria, o solo la metáfora de mi propio viaje interior. Pero ahora sé que, aún en la mayor oscuridad, toda piedra recordará a quienes, con temor y esperanza, eligieron subir sin mirar atrás.
Cómo participar, aún estás a tiempo…
Una imagen vale más que mil palabras
Portada de la iniciativa.
CRÉDITOS:
Imagen tomada de la iniciativa, cortesía de Pixabay
🔆****🔆****🔆****🔆****🔆****🔆****🔆****🔆****🔆
Dedicado a todos aquellos que contribuyen, día a día, a hacer de este planeta un mundo mejor.
Bridge between worlds.
What I see beyond the image
Prompt of the initiative.
I see a staircase carved in stone, deeply worn by countless footsteps that have left their mark over the centuries. The steps, misshapen and sunken in the centre, seem to have been moulded by an eternity of tired feet, clinging to the instinct to ascend. The high, close, rough walls hold the gloom with the secrets of ancient times. Light, almost ethereal, filters down from above, promising an escape, a rebirth or simply a rest after the fatigue of the climb. Each mark and curve speaks of the passage of time and of human frailty in the face of the immensity of history.
What the Image Makes Me Feel
The instant the image rests on my eyes, a sense of fear emerges that is hard to explain, as if that eroded trace on the stone were the echo of thousands of lives confronting that which they feared most: the unknown. I feel uncertainty, a kind of inner trembling, between the darkness that holds me back and that distant light that hints at hope, but may also reveal more challenges. It is impossible not to think of my own present, in those confusing times where the world seems like a narrow, worn-out corridor, and every step is an act of courage towards an uncertain future. The solitude of the stones, the absence of voices, reinforce the conviction that the staircase is as much a symbol of ascent as of vulnerability.
The Anecdote Behind It All
They say that stones remember. I, at the foot of that eroded staircase, felt the weight of all the stories that were never told. Each step was a doubt beneath my feet, a sigh of someone who, centuries before, climbed with dreams, with fears, with the simple hope of reaching the light.
The air, heavy and cold, smelled of antiquity and secrets never revealed. I felt my footsteps joining an infinite parade: Egyptian traders, priests, some curious child, all condemned to that transit of shadows towards the unknown. The silence spoke volumes - the absence of voices was a din in my ears, and my own breaths echoed like forgotten prayers.
At the top, a flash of light blinded me. It was not the light of ordinary day; it was the glow of promise, or perhaps of the end. I hesitated. I thought of turning back, but something urged me to go on, to defy that vertigo that is only experienced when leaving the comfort of the gloom. Uncertainty haunted me, as if the staircase itself were warning me: ‘Every ascent is a risk, but also the only way to break the circle’.
I don't know how long the ascent lasted, nor what discoveries awaited me at the top. I only know that, as I crossed the threshold and embraced the light, I realised that fear was never the real enemy. It was only the guardian, the last challenge before embracing my small eternity.
Perhaps this staircase is the exit of an ancient pyramid, or just a metaphor for my own inner journey. But I know now that, even in the greatest darkness, every stone will remember those who, in fear and hope, chose to climb without looking back.
Come ɑnd pɑɾticipɑte becɑuse γou still hɑve, time…
A Pictuɾe Is Woɾth A Thousɑnd Woɾds
Cover of the initiative.
CREDITS:
Image taken from the initiative, courtesy of Pixabay
🔆****🔆****🔆****🔆****🔆****🔆****🔆****🔆****🔆
I am dedicated to all those who contribute daily to make our planet ɑ a better world.
Cómo participar, aún estás a tiempo…
Una imagen vale más que mil palabras
Portada de la iniciativa.
CRÉDITOS:
Imagen tomada de la iniciativa, cortesía de Pixabay
Dedicado a todos aquellos que contribuyen, día a día, a hacer de este planeta un mundo mejor.
Bridge between worlds.
What I see beyond the image
Prompt of the initiative.
I see a staircase carved in stone, deeply worn by countless footsteps that have left their mark over the centuries. The steps, misshapen and sunken in the centre, seem to have been moulded by an eternity of tired feet, clinging to the instinct to ascend. The high, close, rough walls hold the gloom with the secrets of ancient times. Light, almost ethereal, filters down from above, promising an escape, a rebirth or simply a rest after the fatigue of the climb. Each mark and curve speaks of the passage of time and of human frailty in the face of the immensity of history.
What the Image Makes Me Feel
The instant the image rests on my eyes, a sense of fear emerges that is hard to explain, as if that eroded trace on the stone were the echo of thousands of lives confronting that which they feared most: the unknown. I feel uncertainty, a kind of inner trembling, between the darkness that holds me back and that distant light that hints at hope, but may also reveal more challenges. It is impossible not to think of my own present, in those confusing times where the world seems like a narrow, worn-out corridor, and every step is an act of courage towards an uncertain future. The solitude of the stones, the absence of voices, reinforce the conviction that the staircase is as much a symbol of ascent as of vulnerability.
The Anecdote Behind It All
They say that stones remember. I, at the foot of that eroded staircase, felt the weight of all the stories that were never told. Each step was a doubt beneath my feet, a sigh of someone who, centuries before, climbed with dreams, with fears, with the simple hope of reaching the light.
The air, heavy and cold, smelled of antiquity and secrets never revealed. I felt my footsteps joining an infinite parade: Egyptian traders, priests, some curious child, all condemned to that transit of shadows towards the unknown. The silence spoke volumes - the absence of voices was a din in my ears, and my own breaths echoed like forgotten prayers.
At the top, a flash of light blinded me. It was not the light of ordinary day; it was the glow of promise, or perhaps of the end. I hesitated. I thought of turning back, but something urged me to go on, to defy that vertigo that is only experienced when leaving the comfort of the gloom. Uncertainty haunted me, as if the staircase itself were warning me: ‘Every ascent is a risk, but also the only way to break the circle’.
I don't know how long the ascent lasted, nor what discoveries awaited me at the top. I only know that, as I crossed the threshold and embraced the light, I realised that fear was never the real enemy. It was only the guardian, the last challenge before embracing my small eternity.
Perhaps this staircase is the exit of an ancient pyramid, or just a metaphor for my own inner journey. But I know now that, even in the greatest darkness, every stone will remember those who, in fear and hope, chose to climb without looking back.
Come ɑnd pɑɾticipɑte becɑuse γou still hɑve, time…
A Pictuɾe Is Woɾth A Thousɑnd Woɾds
Cover of the initiative.
CREDITS:
Image taken from the initiative, courtesy of Pixabay
🔆****🔆****🔆****🔆****🔆****🔆****🔆****🔆****🔆
I am dedicated to all those who contribute daily to make our planet ɑ a better world.
Dedicado a todos aquellos que contribuyen, día a día, a hacer de este planeta un mundo mejor.
Bridge between worlds.
What I see beyond the image
Prompt of the initiative.
I see a staircase carved in stone, deeply worn by countless footsteps that have left their mark over the centuries. The steps, misshapen and sunken in the centre, seem to have been moulded by an eternity of tired feet, clinging to the instinct to ascend. The high, close, rough walls hold the gloom with the secrets of ancient times. Light, almost ethereal, filters down from above, promising an escape, a rebirth or simply a rest after the fatigue of the climb. Each mark and curve speaks of the passage of time and of human frailty in the face of the immensity of history.
What the Image Makes Me Feel
The instant the image rests on my eyes, a sense of fear emerges that is hard to explain, as if that eroded trace on the stone were the echo of thousands of lives confronting that which they feared most: the unknown. I feel uncertainty, a kind of inner trembling, between the darkness that holds me back and that distant light that hints at hope, but may also reveal more challenges. It is impossible not to think of my own present, in those confusing times where the world seems like a narrow, worn-out corridor, and every step is an act of courage towards an uncertain future. The solitude of the stones, the absence of voices, reinforce the conviction that the staircase is as much a symbol of ascent as of vulnerability.
The Anecdote Behind It All
They say that stones remember. I, at the foot of that eroded staircase, felt the weight of all the stories that were never told. Each step was a doubt beneath my feet, a sigh of someone who, centuries before, climbed with dreams, with fears, with the simple hope of reaching the light.
The air, heavy and cold, smelled of antiquity and secrets never revealed. I felt my footsteps joining an infinite parade: Egyptian traders, priests, some curious child, all condemned to that transit of shadows towards the unknown. The silence spoke volumes - the absence of voices was a din in my ears, and my own breaths echoed like forgotten prayers.
At the top, a flash of light blinded me. It was not the light of ordinary day; it was the glow of promise, or perhaps of the end. I hesitated. I thought of turning back, but something urged me to go on, to defy that vertigo that is only experienced when leaving the comfort of the gloom. Uncertainty haunted me, as if the staircase itself were warning me: ‘Every ascent is a risk, but also the only way to break the circle’.
I don't know how long the ascent lasted, nor what discoveries awaited me at the top. I only know that, as I crossed the threshold and embraced the light, I realised that fear was never the real enemy. It was only the guardian, the last challenge before embracing my small eternity.
Perhaps this staircase is the exit of an ancient pyramid, or just a metaphor for my own inner journey. But I know now that, even in the greatest darkness, every stone will remember those who, in fear and hope, chose to climb without looking back.
Come ɑnd pɑɾticipɑte becɑuse γou still hɑve, time…
A Pictuɾe Is Woɾth A Thousɑnd Woɾds
Cover of the initiative.
CREDITS:
Image taken from the initiative, courtesy of Pixabay
🔆****🔆****🔆****🔆****🔆****🔆****🔆****🔆****🔆
I am dedicated to all those who contribute daily to make our planet ɑ a better world.
Come ɑnd pɑɾticipɑte becɑuse γou still hɑve, time…
A Pictuɾe Is Woɾth A Thousɑnd Woɾds
Cover of the initiative.
CREDITS:
Image taken from the initiative, courtesy of Pixabay
I am dedicated to all those who contribute daily to make our planet ɑ a better world.