On the Path Behind the Pond

This is one of those scenes that froze me
in my tracks, not daring to move until
I had taken in as much of it as I could hold.
The longer I looked, the larger the mystery of it
became, seeping deeper and deeper
into the forest, into the very trunks of the trees,
and yet floating as well on the whispering air
that surrounded me, brushing my face, my skin.
My mind is entranced; the choreography is perfect.
Nothing is haphazard, nothing is by chance.
Everything is music, and the never-ending dance.

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