One day I will appear,
in the midst of it all.

I will bolt out
a strike of lightening
after having lived
in the shade of observing.

Dark boulder,
pressing into the depths of is,
I will rise up –
releasing mass –
and float like dust
catching in the morning sun.

I am.

It will be magical.

I will be free to dance
unless I tire of the headiness
and fall, once more,
practitioner of gravity.

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