Gravity and Grace

Angels and apples,
sinners and seniors,
all eventually fall,
trapped in the gravity
of the world.

A Scarlet leaf,
short-lived adornment,
        wafts
                down,
    dancing         in                 the
      gentle                 breeze
    a                 meandering
        waltz
to its final resting place.

In a cruel twist, its grandfather, having stood for over a hundred years, thuds
to
the
ground
with
urgency.

But a pound of broken bones
and a pound of imagined sleights
fall at the same speed
in the vacuum of my soul:

Satellites caught in orbit
around the sun,
consumed in re-entry –
a controlled burn recycling
decay into the humus
of grace.

©2016 Kenneth W. Arthur