TINY DANCER

i am my own dawn and dusk, my own tides and torrents.

my rhythms are also mine, even as they are also all rhythms, my limbs animated by wills and intentions not my own and yet to become my own before i, in turn, transmit them on.

my limbs reshape the dreams of age coursing through them, adding their own undulations and echoes as I convey them to their next hosts:

all is received by me, both the ancient and the unborn:

all energy takes on my own contours, as first I contain it, then, in an instant, make it uncontainable

conducting it, amplifying it, releasing it onward.

the eternal dance comes to me complete from all ages

and yet i complete it again

seeking its next dancer

the one who will always, miraculously, complete it anew.

——-michael perkins