The Gemini Dances

A ground, softly wind caressed
with finger-leaves and palms of plastic bags
presents a gift to strangers clothed in rags.
Now is the time I face my test
of solid fear and weathered calm.

Shall I move? I feel compelled to do so.
I feel the gently pushing, laughing air
behind my back, below my feet,
I lift my eyes to storms of frigid sleet,
and spread my arms to part the bloodied seas.

I, met with tones of joyfully motioned counterpart,
have lost my mind in throes of heart, have found
an eyesight, blind to numbers and analysis,
that leads me to an unalienable desire.
I dance, I dance, I dance, my entire being
thrown about in rain-set ribboned paths.