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INSTRUMENT OF MOTION
The dancer stretches to swallow stage and sky
Fluidly grazing the air to awe these eyes
The moments of motion to become a renewal
To relieve the festering creativity within his soul
To perform that which shall never grow old.
Rising star through falling hands
The stormy arcs thrown away to sightless lands
Gentle through strength, warmth within the man
From his grasping form flows a vital grace
Filling that time, our lives, the city's space.
Reaching out to touch the fleeting light
Molding dreams for tomorrow from his physical rite
Emotions through actions not to be ignored.
The fast pulse shall prove to the awakened
blending beauty and mind; human art never forsaken.
Carol Gauntlett
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