Fall

Lest you forget
the feel of wind beneath your wings
and the contagious grace of updrafts,
fall from high places.
From cliffs and tall buildings.
From 8th floor windows
and the top rung of your dreams.

Keep your feathers preened.
Tune them to the melodious plink-plonk
of music box mechanisms
slowing to a slack-spring pause
which is all the cause you need
for doing nothing.

Can falling be called motion?
Is it action to trust yourself
to gravity and clouds,
to never name your open hands,
"Belongings"?



jerry gordon
1.22.06
Cafe Independants, Kyoto