Gravity is the weakest force in the universe.

No empowered crack of the electric
arcing back and forth,

no aurora painted by the solar wind,

no polarity of the magnetic
to           push          apart
or pull-in-close-together.

No elemental binding
in all the flavors of matter.
No quarks or gluons or plasmas,

no 

e x  p   l    o     s      i       v        e 
r e  l   e    a     s      e
 
of the nuclear.

No | wave | particle | duality | particle | wave | No

quantum collapse to knock flat
your tiny human mind.

Gravity is the weakest force in the universe.

This is why you do not fall through the floor.

It permeates all that is.

It does not manifest.

Not like the others.

Even something as old
and as true
as love
unveils itself.

But you say “gravity”

you say the very word:


G


R


A


V


I


T


Y


and

I’m reminded
it’s only weakness
if you keep staring at the surface.

I see the moon locked in tidal orbit
with our pale blue dot;

I see the sun and the Earth at perihelion,
closer than they’ll be all year;

I see a comet’s tail
flying through the abyss;

I see the long sunset horizon
of a black hole;

I see the stellar birthing,
and the cradle of a nebula;

and beyond…

A binary system.

A neutron star,
a pulsar,
each sharing the other’s orbit,
ferociously magnetized,
broadcasting into the black,
emanating light you can hear,

radiating
the circling of their dance
as far as they can
out into the deep
and the long dark
of the ever-glinting void,

until gravity wins,

warping space,
bending time,

and they fuse together
in their ultraviolet,
in their sunrise,
in their infrared,
in their lightburst collapse of all that is.

This is called a kilo-nova.

This is how gold is made.