Experience lingers in resistance going forward…
Pushing future gains out of sight, only seeing a directness of words.
Vocabularies, I’m unaccustomed to own.
The lines are straight converging with shapes forming my frame.
A form of reference I’ll recognize the fit.
I am swept into the dance, the dance I have practiced well.
The stage before me isn’t as I thought.
It is exactly as it would be for I am not the choreographer.
Shining faces learning to listen and see potential worlds.
Contrasting colors will they become life’s custom?
Ever learning to react or respond.
Where are the fragments of time now?
Who am I within the structure of today?
I am grateful for the experience in my education of self.
