In Praise of Gravity
Which bestows weight
or slings me around
some other heavenly
body, a version of you
wondering whether
I’ll rise from my next
plummet, victim of
curvature and infinite
range held in place,
attractive in nature,
bent perhaps and
scarred, proud to have
survived but never wiser.
Cleansed, we continue
our orbit, our mirrored fall.
“In Praise of Gravity” is included in my chapbook, If Your Matter Could Reform.
Beautiful!
LikeLiked by 2 people
Thank you!
LikeLike
i love this one, and love how your word ‘plummet’ plummeted down into the next stanza
LikeLiked by 2 people
Thanks, Beth. I’m hoping to reduce my future personal plummets.
LikeLiked by 1 person
It’s a good initiative
LikeLiked by 1 person
🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Yup – slung, plummeted, scarred – survivor never wiser – this seems to fit most of us! And here we go again …
LikeLiked by 2 people
Again. And again!
LikeLiked by 1 person
I know how you feel, brother. Gravity bestows weight, then abandons us to the fall. (Forgive me if I’m reading “praise” ironically and “victim” literally — it’s just the mood I’m in. After the plummet, though, I hope to abide like Okaji [and the Dude] 🙂 )
LikeLiked by 3 people
I’m much practiced at falling…
LikeLiked by 2 people
True amigos, you and I 🙂
LikeLiked by 2 people
Never wiser……. although we might think so? I was so much older then, I’m younger than that now
LikeLiked by 3 people
You, me and Dylan!
LikeLiked by 1 person