the hidden age

here, below the surface

the soul does not fear growing old or going gray,

getting cold, slowing down, knowing pain

becoming a hindrance

 

here, below the surface

the soul gains ground, shines bright

brilliant in the green-blue-green auroras swirling

weightless and majestic in the sky

speeding on, heedless

of time passing the dancer who cannot, will not

stop listening to the music

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