Tonight's Poet Corner: The Cost Of Gravity
The Cost Of Gravity
by Belinda Roddie
In this heavy world,
we cannot tiptoe,
we cannot whisper,
we cannot let our hearts
echo in the parlor.
Our stomachs swell
with clusters of musket
balls, all with hidden
messages inside. Our
mouths are dry, our
teeth chiseled like stone.
We cannot chew. We cannot
digest anything.
All we can manage
is the softness of our fingers,
the warmth of our lips,
the single caress of our shoulders.
There is still something gentle
despite the weight. There is
still a chance to rest despite
the burden pressing down
like the molten core of
Mother Earth's sagging bosom.
And if I hold you close
in this heavy world,
perhaps, ironically,
your spirit, the last thing
untouched, will become
lighter than a star.
by Belinda Roddie
In this heavy world,
we cannot tiptoe,
we cannot whisper,
we cannot let our hearts
echo in the parlor.
Our stomachs swell
with clusters of musket
balls, all with hidden
messages inside. Our
mouths are dry, our
teeth chiseled like stone.
We cannot chew. We cannot
digest anything.
All we can manage
is the softness of our fingers,
the warmth of our lips,
the single caress of our shoulders.
There is still something gentle
despite the weight. There is
still a chance to rest despite
the burden pressing down
like the molten core of
Mother Earth's sagging bosom.
And if I hold you close
in this heavy world,
perhaps, ironically,
your spirit, the last thing
untouched, will become
lighter than a star.
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