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There is a light that guides
Spilling out from within the dawn
And covers the morning with dew
During the day it lifts
Picked up by the wind to hide
Patiently behind rustling leaves
Hidden in the sounds we breathe
The light then slips between us
Burning holes in souls held by fleeting gazes
Passed to and fro on unwhispered thoughts
Tenuously linked to misremembered paradigms
Lending rhythm
And poise
and grace
To the footsteps that fall before
Changing gears and gaining speed
The light congeals in sublime diffraction
Sitting resolute inside our impatient bodies
Manifest in vibrating gestures
Electric in its solid state
We smile and look toward the sky
Share a laugh across a continent
Close our eyes as the light thaws
Slinking back into the heavy night
The light is not a light at all
Nor merely a convenient metaphor
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