Gravity

It’s an open, hollow sound,

filling the cave of my ears,

when I have nothing more

to give or to want. When you have left,

like the leaves do leave in fall –

returning in their own turn of time,

come spring. Come, new life.

And like those leaves too,

I fell –that same gravity–

to decompose myself,

to let all my composure and inaction soak

the ground, like blood, like spring rain.

That same gravity takes all creation in

hand

and walks us home.