Pinnacle

There is gravity in death.
It falls down,
is sealed in silence.
As a stone
glued to the earth.
I will keep the words
that sound from my heart.
Not let them be abandoned
to a sepulcher.
On my birth date,
what do I see
blowing out the shadows
of a single candle?
It is a wish,
that the mark of time
celebrate a sublimity.
That it is not
what I did
that tells my story,
but what I found,
that passes understanding,
love.