Dusk was colouring the skies around
a spark was lit 6000 ft above the ground
I wasn’t dancing but surely,
something unnamed stirred awake in me.
Two hours, twice, and yet, I felt heard
as if some hidden part of me was gently called back to life.
Of course it had to end before it could begin,
but between the quiet spaces and the scattered words,
I found something I hadn’t realized I had lost.
A reminder that I am alive
Still capable of wonder
Still open to the beauty of the unexpected
A trace of it lingers,
warm and aching,
where memory meets hope.
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