I look up to the satin sky smoke
itching my dry eyes and I think
of all the people I could have been
all of the people you aren’t and all
of the places I’ll never be.
All of the lives I could have led but my
head stayed on my shoulders somehow
even with broken bones and disbelief I
managed to keep myself somewhat
grounded. Gravity taught me only one thing:
The ground will always keep you.
And even when everything else eludes me,
Gravity will come knocking, tuck me in to bed
and teach me to sleep with ease
as the world keeps its spinning
and the ground stands still.
Addictions to this and that and you.
Somehow, despite the blueness of it all
I’ve managed to stay in one place.
I’ve managed to mix the colors of
mud and melancholia and misdirection
and paint out a life worth living.
And I know the ground will always
have me. A guest to the third planet,
the concrete, the asphalt. Hosted by
Gravity always knocking at my door
offering blue oceans and oxygen.
I want to tell gravity, “But the ground
is no longer yours. It’s just territory now.”
But I know he’d laugh at me for doubting him.
He’d straighten his tie and say, “My dear,
I realize your concerns, but there’s one thing
money can’t buy. And that’s eternal life.
So enjoy your lifetime, it’s been quite the
pleasure serving you. And remember, if you
somehow make it back to us someday:
The ground will always keep you.”