I've been falling for a while, now
I've lost track of how long for
Days, weeks, my whole life
I'm not sure how that's even possible,
But the ever-rushing air in my ears
And the blur of motion around me
Make it hard to believe otherwise
Maybe I'm in some strange subterranean orbit,
Caught in an endless loop
Around the bowels of the earth
Lit only by the glow of worms and fungus,
And there's nothing for me to grab hold of to stop
No jutting branch or root can support my weight
Let alone break my fall
Because I am heavy, heavy, heavy
And I'll snap,
Or wrench,
Or simply lose my grip
On anything fixed that I grab on the way down
And there is always at the back of my mind
The knowledge that someday, there will be ground
And it will not be a soft welcome cushion when it comes.
Sometimes I encounter others in my predicament
Dark shapes in the distance that resolve into bodies, limbs, faces
They are falling faster or slower
As the aerodynamics of their bodies permit
And we talk quickly, before we pass
Compare notes. tell stories of our fall, and commiserate
And sometimes, if we match speeds enough
And the timing is just right
We can grab hold of each other
And say "I've got you!"
And we feel, for a moment,
Lightness
Safety
The sense of something stable
Something that will not be ripped free
Something that will not pass by before we had the chance
To really see it or understand it
To feel, in some small way,
For now, at least, if we ignore our surroundings
That we are not falling
That we are flying
And we revel in the embrace
And grip each other as though we'll never let go
For hours, days, our whole life
Until we grow tired of each other and push away,
Or drift apart when we weren't paying attention,
Or get knocked apart by something flying out of the dark
Each watching the other spin out of sight
And I am left feeling the weight of the fall once more
And wondering if I'll ever feel that sure grip again
And hear someone say
"I've got you!"