Gravity does not ask permission.
It pulls, silent, inevitable,
cradling the moon, holding the tide,
binding dust into stars
and hearts into fragile orbit.
Love is like that, too.
Unseen, patient, constant,
sometimes gentle, sometimes relentless,
shaping lives without ceremony,
bending moments until they cannot escape.
We are all small planets,
sometimes colliding, sometimes drifting,
yet tethered to the pull of others,
to the weight of care we cannot refuse.
Even in absence, even in silence,
we are held,
we are drawn together
by invisible hands that never tire.