qi

I often do tai chi in a far field

In a place where no one sees me.

The field overlooks a forest

Where a young man took his life.

I move as if underwater,

Shaping my chi Into a ball

Which I offer to the sun.

The sun smiles

When I do my tai chi,

Holds me in its gaze

While I move as gracefully

As an old man might,

Pushing and pulling

Strands of the quantum flux.

Sometimes I imagine

The spirit of that young man watching me

From the trees.

After my tai chi

I turn to a pile of imaginary spears at my feet.

I go through the motions

Of throwing spear after spear,

Each spear

Javelining through space.

When I have thrown my spears

I bless the place

And walk the long way home.