If you could see that which eludes earth-vision
Or feel that which denies the grasp of hands,
Only then could you say you had known me.
But there are no lines to define my form,
Nor words by which to speak my name.
I try to keep my feet firmly planted.
I am not unaware of my tendency to take flight
And my lack of solidity.
Shall I fashion a tether so that gravity may hold me?
Or put stones in my pockets that I might have weight?
Rachelle LeCount
