The Embrace of Iron

Here, amid the cold flat solid shapes,

Of plates, and stacks, and grips and bars

Of movement, knowledge, effort and breath

I feel safe, at last.

Here, judgement lives only in the weight and the strain

The heft and the shift and the breath and release.

The iron’s hands embrace my own as I pull and lift and push

Learning through mass and gravity

It never condescends, it never confuses

It promises nothing other than itself

Exhaustion, strength and peace