When She Is On The Pole

 When she is on the pole... 
She is the morning fog that fills the world with surprises. 
She slowly brightens the world like the sun breaking the clouds. 
She moves unhindered like the wind. 
She bursts with the fury of a Strom. 
She paints the world in color. 
With every motion she defines presence...

When she is on the pole... 
she is not bound by laws. 
She is not restricted by any border. 
She doesn't not conform to some social construct. 
There is no limiting her possibilities. 
There is no taming her sprite. 
With every motion she defines freedom... 

When she is on the pole... 
She glides between the fabric of the universe. 
Gravity cannot hold her. 
She cannot be bound to some orbit. 
She becomes the embodiment of the unknown. 
She exists and does not exist all at the same time...

When she is on the pole... 
She commends your attention. 
She makes you believe in something greater than yourself. 
She extrudes divine radiance. Her moves dictate a prophecy, "hate and war to be overcome by love and peace". 
She is your religion. 
She demands your faith... 

When she is on the pole... 
She is one with the pole yet she falls.
She moves effortlessly yet she struggles. 
She is invincible yet she bruises.  
She must have done this a thousand times yet she is learning. 
She is innocence and experience. 
She is existence...

When she is on the pole... 
She bends, she twists, she turns, she flips, she twirls, she hangs, she swings. 
She conveys a rainbow of emotions. 
She is determined. Nothing else exists but her. 
She is alive. 
She is life...

-r.d