Puff the Magic
In the walking hours of our lives
Upon deeply blazed paths traveling
Weighed with burdens bending low
We thank the loads that make us slow
Stooping to see about the dandelion
the angels dancing in perfect time!
Such is the way they come to us
Their images in an unfocused dream
At the precise moment of the bending.
Then puff!
And in a twinkling we lift in suspension
Held in perfect pirouette
above the burden below.
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