for the fall of Tiangong-1
I am coming home, The Line-Walker,
who walks between up and down, heaven
and ground. Because, here “ethereal”
means lonely and “star-lit” means
dark. I am no closer to God the way
a bridge is no closer to either side.
I am falling unburdened, Babel returning
to origin and singularity- at peace
to be back in place. I will find
a resting spot, one plop into the ocean
when my wings have burned off.