Saguaro Cactus Down By The Wash — Image by kenne
Gravity Prevails
This old saguaro bends,
arms too heavy for the trunk,
two pressed down to the ground
like crutches that keep it standing.
I know the feeling — knees gone,
back stiff in the mornings,
each step a small negotiation
with the earth below.
They say the cactus has lived
a hundred years, maybe two —
having seen men die younger,
and still it leans,
still it finds a way
to stay upright,
though gravity has claimed
every inch of it.
I used to think
I could resist—
work harder,
drink less,
walk farther,
but the cactus
tells me the truth:
sooner or later,
you bow down.
What matters
is how long you keep
your arms in the air,
catching light,
refusing to be silenced,
before the earth
pulls you all the way down.
— kenne
