It was like this at one time:
no heaviness, just emptied infinity.
When we mature, instinctively reaching
for an anchor, we learn the burden
of gravity- a body falling down,
creatures with wings that were never
meant to fly, the weight of luggage
carried onto the train stuffed with
everything we are; how we pull
and fight to stay grounded.
In the "underside" of weight and slowness
a part of us exists- where shadows flicker,
coalesce, dancing stars shooting through
our universe, more dead than alive,
a tall cathedral where prayers are said,
wingless, weightless and rising.