The Apex of the Launched Stone

A launch tore it from its native ground,
a stone-arrow flung against the blue.
Without weight or struggle anymore,
from where it came, it climbs so high.
It journeys forth, an audacious relay race,
toward a certain point where fate awaits.

There, where the impulse grows so slight,
a beating heart held in the height.
No upward climb, no gentle fall below,
just the instant of its perfect glow.
A stillness in the movement, a halt so deep,
before its coming back promises to keep.

But soon the unseen calling starts to fall,
and its high crest begins to break and crawl.
Gravity reclaims the realm it knew,
in a return the very breezes drew.
It is no ending, but a cycle taking hold,
of an ancient, tireless might untold.