The failures of the yesterdays seem to have their weights cast upon the possibilities of tomorrows. Are we really free from them? Perhaps we are. But every now and then, when they come knocking on the door, when u stared down at the scars left on your hands by your own accord, surely one must have at least a sense of progress.
But doubts do exist and there will be moments when your hand feels heavy. Weight. A sense of Gravity. Physical. Metaphysical. Between your ears and in your palms. Within your heart. A revisitation. A reminder of how high the ladder is, and how broad the horizon will be. Given this, Gravity can only mean a sense of reality.
But reality does mean possibilities and hope. If taken in another light that is. It means there is a point to be travelled to, and that there is a process in waiting. And it can only compass us to a pool of richness which means not the state of the physical. But something else. And thats what we have been waiting for. Something which is beyond us, and something which we work towards. If we fail, we ought not to let the gravity bind us to the earth. After all gravity is the force which puts things in order. For a reason too. For now it means, ” I will give it a go…again.” And Gravity can only draw two objects closer together. A force which brings us to that place. A force of higher order. A force which gives the universe its shape. The planets their curves. It is a weight which is all well. It molds.