Softened face, heavy brow.
Turning leaves destined to descend.
Inevitable force calls all things to rest.
Fight we must.
To stand, to walk, to breathe.
Even in rest,
we strain against the weight,
ever moving.
Movement is life.
When gravity wins we are alive no more…
or are we?
Somehow impending fall,
the anticipation of stillness,
is balanced by things rising within me.
Funneling down and rising up.
Spirit defying gravity’s laws.
This energy of love
seems to be the only thing
not bound by gravity.
Magical force that does not die.
Rising in the fall,
transcending time and space.
Infinite and tangible,
living within us all.
