Skytreading
Sometimes, I step Into the Sky.
Ancestors as footprints,
and drizzly ions my scented chai.
I stand with head-top near enough
to Earth that I
forget Sky
with all of my heart
and take my part
in the Grand Plan(less)
a-swirl, a-new
forgetting that I
can now remember
Who I am.
Who am I?
and
Why.
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