Spirit in Motion
She dances through the silver mist,
Her feet the prayer, her limbs the twist.
A nature spirit, wild and free,
A hymn in fluid ecstasy.
She moves as one with breeze and stone,
Unmade, unnamed, yet fully known.
The mirrored hall reflects her flame,
A thousand selves with just one name.
By candlelight the depths are seen—
Not false, but real in what they mean.
Each flicker proves the self is more
Than one reflection, locked in door.
