On the clearest of nights,
when the moon is new,
I like to lie on my back
in the grass and dirt.
I'll close my eyes, and
lie there, silent,
feeling the wind roll over me
timing my breathing with
the dance between breeze and grass,
keeping meter with the song they play.
Then, I feel the earth against my back.
I stretch my arms
as   wide   as     I    can...
and, palms down,
I hold the world on my back.
I try to feel the weight of it
on my shoulders.
I think of the size of this
hot ball of rock and water.
I feel the heaviness of
all of its inhabitants.
I feel their slightest vibrations-
baby steps
that move mountains-
shaping the landscape
and changing the destiny of this
ball of dirt.
I feel it living.
At the same time, I feel it dying.
It's an endless cycle
Of beautiful, precious life
in terminal doses.
I think of all this,
behind my back,
on my shoulders,
until I feel that the weight of it all
will surely crush me.
In that moment, I open my eyes
And look up at the clear,
moonless sky, and see
a sea of stars,
burning brighter than normal
as they pierce the darkness,
the illusion of the world on my shoulders.
As I stare into the cosmos,
the reality of this little ball of rock
is lifted from my back.
What was, moments ago,
the heaviest object in the universe,
was now tiny, when set against infinity.
I finally stand, and smile,
having successfully
thrown the planet back into space.