A Body at Rest - June 13 2026

 

A Body at Rest

June 13 2026

Words escape me.

Plans change.

The earth quakes,

and my foundation shifts

cracks

crumbles.

But since all motion is relative

nothing’s ever the same;

stability

just feels that way.

Even the observed

is changed by observation,

while the observer

herself is being watched.

But we seek absolutes, not relatives — 

stop or go,

yes or no,

hold or drop

and right or wrong.

Because morality

brooks no compromise.

But I am supple,

I bend instead of break.

I am airborne,

but at terminal velocity

don’t feel as if I’m falling

won’t know until I stop.

I tried to start a poem with the single word opening line Spontaneity. Something I’m very much not! Couldn’t get it much past that point, then had a couple of false starts, and finally started writing this. Which I think scratches the same itch, if a little more obliquely.  

A regular reader will find this quite a departure from my usual style. For better or worse, at least it’s mercifully shorter!