Gravity (Step Two Is Harder)

You assemble your raw
Materials, neatly.
You clear your mind for work.

You step out of the trench
Of standard perspective.
You bend the universe.

Now you’re ready to start
The awful taffy pull
Of cosmic creation.

But then you realize
You’re too small to alter
Your neighbor’s position.

Although you can peek out
To the infinite rim
And haul the big stuff in,

You’re too weak to shift dust
A hand’s breath from your face.
You can’t pull two motes close.

So here you are, grand sweep
Of vision holding all
Together, who can’t budge

A fly buzzing at you
From its perch on the back
Of an angel’s feather.