The way a drop
of water finds
its path down the face
of a granite wall, patiently
following the vein
of descent, leaping across
a fissure when
one furrow ends
to find another,
sliding in
the channel
of etched stone,
smooth or rough-hewn,
slowing in a cavity,
stretched out then gone
again in dizzying pace
that only slows
but never stops
until the ground
is finally found,
reminds me how
I fell that time,
the moment when
I couldn’t catch my grip,
the world sliding
out from me, free falling,
still clutching,
until I knew
that I could let go,
let go with you.