Wednesday, March 23, 2011
He often railed against gravity. He always laughed at the hubris of it afterward but he did it, too often, just the same.
Gravity weighed him down, kept him from just floating up into the azure sky, and he knew that was gravity’s job…but sometimes…just sometimes…he railed against it just the same.
Gravity held him still while his lovers flew away…but, he was realist enough to realize, that was on him…always on him and his stubborn hubris…and not really on gravity…but it was easier to blame gravity so sometimes…just sometimes…that’s what he did.
Gravity kept him grounded when his heart was ready to burst each time his wife gave birth to one of their children…gravity held him close while he held his wide-eyed, open-hearted daughters and sons close to his heart, while he held his guileless and trusting children up high to the moonlit, starry expansive of the sky and let them know that nothing other than that celestial majesty was greater than who they were, who they would be.
He often railed against gravity. And gravity, for its part, gave wing to his heart and gently brought his tears back down to the welcoming, nurturing earth. He always laughed at the hubris of it…of railing against gravity…but he did it, much too often, just the same.