Here is something you can do.

Place your shoulder.
Or back. Or belly. Leg, arm. The firmness of your foot.
Some part of you.
Against the ground, gently.
Or the linoleum floor. Or the sofa. Or sit.
You might close your eyes.

Then, rock. Gently.
Rock back and forth, back and forth.
In your imagination is fine.
Very fine, in fact.
Rock back and forth, back and forth,
until, rocking, you reconnect with the earth
and, with great and delicate surety,
propel the earth into rotation.

The earth, then, in its turn, will spin.
You can look up to the skies for proof.
Even the clouds, in their lightness, will say:
Yes. I am with you.
Always in repose.
Always in response.