Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Sep 2020
Paragliding is a matter of maths.
You launch, fly, land, bash or crash.
How you meet the ground depends on maths.
Maths is key to survival.

Allowances for maths out of your control, will drive your fun.
Wind, heat, thermals and other pilots in the sky.
Unforgiving ground is gravity's final aim.
The wind will blow, thermals will lift, but gravity's maths will always win.

Your time in the air, and possibly life's end, will depend pilot error.
But gravity's maths doesn't care, he is all.
Gravity is annoyed with paragliders aiming at the ground with miss.
Gravity has calculated it's maths.

He spies those who fly forever, and wishes them on the ground.
With silence and invisibility, he draws those pilots in.
Some follow the maths and land with ease.
Some ignore the maths with peril.

Gravity's maths will always win.
Written by
Please log in to view and add comments on poems