we fall
to discover how deeply embedded
we are-
in that range of weight
between leaves,
as green thumbs tumble
and fingers
tremble through otherness,
each tries to hitch a ride,
or actually, more truly,
a destination
for everything drops
the same, each as stone,
welded to earth
and the depth can vary but the well is one,
a single centre drawing us down
where the scale of mass does not define
the journey.
that we each have substance
frames the only consequence of trust,
a magnitude that tolerates,
that determines how far the wind
will carry us from home, before we strike
the water's face,
before we are memories
buried
by those yet to fly.
Gold trophy winner
Adding your comment:
