Falling with grace

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There is an art, they say, to falling.

Turn one’s face to the side.

Stay loose, arms and legs bent,

body relaxed. It is an art I am yet to master,

falling more likely face first, catapulting

headlong, fearing to miss one tiny step

in this affair of love. For that’s what it is.

Drawn by all that busies itself around me—

that causes the earth to understand

how seasons teach with color,

that life is clarified by flashes of feathered

wings against an already remarkable sky

and by the healing silence

trapped between notes of song—

it is this unadulterated lust

for the grace of life

that I practice.

*  *  *

Poem and photo by Mary O’Connor © 2016

 


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