When you were a kid and jumped off a garage roof.
Like thunder without handlebars.
Or the frayed seams of a school yard baseball.
In the uncertain terms of kite strings.
And a gravel road for theology.
How quiet quits the spindle, peels back the print.
Undone by becoming. Traversed by being.
Tipped over. In the end.
Into something so subtlety, and invisibly, forever.
naïve haircuts 
The first two lines absolutely grabbed me and pulled me in. Like thunder without handlebars. Just wonderful. I also love the second last stanza. My brain is a frog again, clinging to the meniscus of the lines.
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Thank you so much Worms! What a wonderful comment.
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Stunning. Love these lines:
“Undone by becoming. Traversed by being.
Tipped over. In the end.”
And the last line. And the title. Yes. So many ponderable meanings 🙂
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Thank you Sunra!! I’m really glad you think so.
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You’re most welcome!
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terrific energy in this one, Bob; I love ‘the gravel road for theology’. sort of sorting out your values the hardscrabble way; and the sheer magic of those first two lines, the headstrong daring —
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Thanks John! I really like the way you put that “hardscrabble”. That’s perfect!
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Ahhhhh, “the frayed seams of a school yard baseball.”…….My mind is drooling. Hee hee. The feeling of forever that you create here is fearless and that’s brave and essential. I need it more than ever.
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Thanks Steve. I definitely thought of you when I wrote the baseball line. Your writing has a lot of synapses in my brain firing again: I think back often to playing ball in the parking lot of the community center down the street from me. Desperately trying to hit a ball over the tall chain link fence that was our home run wall. Though I never did. Glad you liked the end of the poem too. That feeling of forever is important,
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Bob, thanks for thinking of me. That’s great to hear…about the synapses. It’s like we have an online writing group here and that’s important to me. I’ve never been in one before. I never hit a home run in little league and I sometimes wonder if it haunts me, that i would feel much better about myself if I had hit one. Well, I have returned to that little league field as an adult and managed to hit one out.
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I like having an online writing group too. I agree, it is important. Glad you had some closure, returning to the little league field and hitting one out. Same, I never hit a homer, but I was never that good, so just making contact was exciting for me.
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I love the lines, “Like thunder without handlebars. / Or the frayed seams of a school yard baseball.” This poem is fantastic. Well done!
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Thank you!!
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I adore this one, Bob.
“Like thunder without handlebars.” Isn’t that exactly how it feels?
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Thank you so much Holly! I’m glad that line resonates with you.
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