Against Gravity

Rivers flow uphill, clouds lie on the land,

The moon meets the sun with a trembling hand.

Their lovemaking sparks both Heaven and Hell,

And leaves even darkness enchanted, compelled.

Two souls collide where reason won’t tread,

Where love’s not a checklist or gossip’s thread.

Not judged by the years or the world’s cruel stance—

Just two hearts, two minds, in a reckless dance.

They say we’re mismatched, out of sync, misaligned,

That your spring should not chase what’s autumn-defined.

But what do clocks know of fate’s hidden art?

What do calendars grasp of the soul or the heart?

Your eyes speak in tongues my mouth cannot name,

Yet somehow, my silence still answers the same.

When you’re close, time bends and forgets to move,

When you’re gone, even seconds forget how to soothe.

But the soul—

That quiet place you never quite leave—

Still holds your light, even when I grieve.

And maybe that’s the cost of heart.

Or maybe—

just maybe—

it’s where forever starts...

As a therapist, I’ve seen how love can challenge the rules we’re taught—about age, timing, and what’s considered “appropriate.” Communities create norms. Hashem creates souls. This poem is for those dating in a world of unwritten rules, and the quiet courage it takes to stay open—to possibility, to connection, to love that may not follow the script, but still feels deeply true. And maybe, in those moments, to ask not just what the community expects—but what Hashem might be trying to tell you. —SA