the quiet trampoline

there is a constant
a line in space that is the nothing
the moment between the inhale and the exhale
the breath between the ocean waves
...the quiet trampoline

from this place we bounce towards the sun and reach towards the stars shooting overhead.
we taste bliss and smell euphoria as we fly through the air above.
my heart strings tickle with the singing of my soul
and I'm deafened by my giddy laughter
from this great height, the sunshine light is blinding and warming to the point of a burn...

but newton called it
and the arc of joy finds its mirror arc below

the moon wanes
the ground sinks below our feet
and the proverbial crash begins

a hollowness fills my heart
and the emptiness reflects sadness
and ache, a longing for light
and the constant line seems to loom above our heads as we yearn for the low to pass

"do not the spirits who dwell in the ether envy man in his pain? he asked...

for the spirits who are the neutral line in space do not feel to the depths of our pain, but also miss the flying, soaring joy on the other side of this snaking line of emotion and experience.

and so we sit.
we breathe
and we wait for the dawn to come
the light to shine
and we know that to reach that high, we'll dip this low and in the end its worth the comedown to darkness to fly beside the sun.