The runner

Of course they do
monkeys fall from trees sometimes
Icarus crashed to earth
it's said an archangel tumbled from grace
without wings or aspiration against gravity's pull
bent double in the bowels of a fiery grip

we fall all the time
in and out of love, paradise, favour,
and how many times are we flat on our face
I could have learnt to walk but as a souped-up soul
went charging from stationary to out of the door
the leap without a backward look
treading over angels on the threshold

wriggling Houdini-like from bonds
I figured drama was the dynamo of life
love a thermometer popped in the mouth
measured in mercury
that slippery quicksilver tongued messenger
told me that the signs were there too

a half moon rising on the longest day
racing to your arms though you'd promised
never to catch me
past the past and instead it caught me up
carried like the bundle of a pilgrim
in the land of Beulah
I rest my case

Written for the dVerse challenge: Even monkeys fall from trees …make us cry or laugh or teach us something from your own experience of mistake-making.