An airplane collapses through the air
toward the ground with sublime grace
a lovely riff on the jazz of despair
– the music of a calamity
gravity duped by a tarmac’s black humor

If there is a parachute, it becomes religion
– a crutch for the faithless to pretend
they have faith.

A mountain, turgid and honest,
points through the air toward the sky
with regal silence – a meditation on hope
– the mantra of resurrection
gravity forgiven by a passing cloud

If there is a stone, it becomes prayer
– a message for the Creator to speak
to the faithful.