Two Poems
Zero Gravity
“space billionaires take flight”
You leave Earth looking for perspective.
How you long to see it, the blue marble,
from outer space. The overview
changes everything astronauts say
and you are looking for change,
to not take life so seriously. So much
energy required to get off the planet to
break with gravity, the bond with Earth,
the ship violent with propulsion’s inferno
shaking you loose from the known world.
But maybe your friend is right, maybe Earth’s best
hope is mass conversions to religions that
teach reincarnation, then people might care
about the future of the planet? You unbuckle,
let yourself float free, wanting the thrill
before this once-in-a-lifetime trip ends,
even a few minutes of giddy weightlessness
so close to death, a tangible peril right
outside the window, Earth passing there
below you now, alone in the darkness.
Coda
In spring, I’m afraid. Everywhere life rises again, noisy, brisk, airy green. There is no stopping it, at least not yet. I want to be that reckless, to throw my self noisy into the warming days. So much lost, I can’t help wearing winter like a necklace—to know where the season leads, the end of growth, the waning of life. It may not seem like courage to let go of confinement, the safe and quiet room, the dark seed, the eggshell. To pick up again and head out an open door. It is to reawaken, to leave behind the dream life, trade it for, yes, life to live, to lose.
