The
hum
became
a rumble,
then ignition's roar.
Pressed heavily into our seats,
despite the padding and the pressurized suits, we felt
rockets rip through atmospheric resistance and six sextillion tons pulling us down.
Then as the great weight lifted, we found ourselves flying
and looking at the world, more gripped
by the sight than the
gravity
of Earth
from
space.

Home
from
orbit
inspires awe.
The atmosphere grows
sacrosanct within the capsule,
glimmers halo-curved along the horizon below,
through which, like seraphim, we've just perilously burned, to see how thin that envelope.