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Oh that Lily, she the epitome of a  
Golden Child as I watched her
Exuding effortless grace, a liquid-silver baton—  
a Haddon Heights Garnett.  
a Blazing Comet /  
enchanting /  
popular and stunning.  

Envious, was I, her?  
a younger sister playing the silent shadow.  
watching from the  
Wings-of-time just  
slip slip slipping away.  

I ask myself. Casey, what does it mean  
To be shy?  
I said to myself you’re  
not precious  
not pretty  
not yet or never. Oh my my my...

In ninth grade my heart wept!  
WHY am I sewn  
into the hidden fringe of her skin?  
Overshadowed, overlooked, over there,  
somewhere.  

I bow my head,  
my hands cupped to the sky.  
tender and pink,  
aching, reaching for clarity.  
I don't know; why why why...  
Why I stopped.  

Then on that~  
great awakening morning that~  

one momentous and blissful day…  

her  
whirling  
twirling  
swirling dance  
ensnared my mind's eye.  
like Tin Man my heart awakened,  
awareness blossomed inside.  

I begged, I pleaded,  
Implored.  
she taught she imparted she believed.  
I struggled I grappled I wept.  
Like Jane Eyre with the windswept moors,  
I found resilience in adversity;  
Lily's patience an illuminating beacon.  

I slowly spun that bulbed raw metallic rod;  
soon it became quite a natural extension of 
me—  myself I, 
a beautiful bold blazing baton.  

My hands spinning like a possessed whirlwind,  
leaping into the cloudless sky like  
a heart so deep in love—   
a harmony like God's storms' fury in flight.  

Evolving burgeoning skills and fervor,   
Passion ignited into Fire;   
Fire into an Eyreian desire.   
Fierce, unshackled, untamed—   
A longing for more,   
a soulful search for self.  

Then came—the-day:   
the first game my senior year,   
the moment I waited for—   
the test of tests as   
I took the field;   
featured grace; and yet—   
nail-biting nauseating nervous ninny.   

Lily in the stands—a smile.

I am here—   
Poised and confident,   
Gilded and resplendent,   
Supernal baton aloft spun gold—   

              v
                e
                  r
Wrist flicking through horizontals              
                     i
                      c
                       a
                         l
                          s  

Tosses illusions—   
Butterflies and spins—   
Punctuated by pops and kicks;   
Dazzling flickering flourishes.  

Then the final pirouette—every muscle taut—   
my heart racing—   
Then—the perfect pose—   
Frozen in time…  

Silence, an aching stillness.

Emptiness lingers, familiar yet new.

Suddenly,   
Like scenes from Whiplash,   
The Greatest Showman—

without warning,   
cheers rise up like crashing waves onto the   
mythological shores of Lanka and Avalon.

A standing surging ovation;   

the crowd cheers and claps—   
thunderous praise—and then—   
A Supernova ignites within my newfound light.

No longer lingering in Lily's shadow—   
I emerge as my own.   
My space, my place—

Like Jane,   
I find my voice: radiant and true.   
My smiling face reflects hard won strength.

Poetry in motion—    

Ravishing Beauty—    
                            Swirling—    
                                        Twirling—    
                           Pearling—    
                   Spinning—    
          Dancing—    

Into the Elysian Fields of Life.
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