The simpleness in falling

There’s one thing that falling has taught me

That there’s a simpleness in lying on the ground and seeing the world from smallness.

As if a new perspective can make up for toiling of leaves fluttering in autumn,

It is beautiful the same way rot and decay are.

With love that makes sense only in simpleness, only from smallness.

Makes sense only in shivering without your sweater, and dew soaking into your t-shirt.

A frightening wonderful dance to the floor, where you can only focus on up.

On sky.

Even though you were thrown from great heights.

There is a beauty in death- In rot and decay.

Like the changing of leaves,

and the smell after rain.

Falling has a hard simpleness to it.

That no one can stop you on your decent,

and like a jumper with no parachute

you stare to the clouds waiting for the crunch,

Cement.

Waiting for the ground to stop you because you reached too high.

And you look down at the smallness.

and you look up from your smallness.

And you realize there is nothing simple about falling.

And you flap your arms to fly but the sky has already abandoned you.

The ground won’t coddle you and the world will bury you.

Didn’t you wonder how we turned to dust?

~R.P Proudlove

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/yvc2qm/hope_in_the_cracks/iwfu937/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=ios_app&utm_name=iossmf&context=3

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