Perfect Tai Chi in the Park
A stranded vision,
buoyant on deep green
transferring weight from blade to blade
effortless spirals crick my neck
following his perfecting form
correcting angles, squaring hips
centring the trunk,
he’s gone!
now I’m lost
he’s blended
transcended
become one
shifted self
eternal, internal
alchemist,
tamed his heart
reached his God
in a park
in a city
on
a wet Tuesday.
Camus
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