This Man Does Not Have Wings
and YET.......
he flies on shadows, dark ink transforming illusion like Jungian dreams.
through doors from one world to the next, wearing masks that are but
bits and pieces
of his own soul skin
flitting like a magical staff, every symbol visable
and moving in constant quantum time
eluding a non-wizard's eye
and then I
STOP time

Chakric motion piercing illusions movement
and his wings become horns
his legs roots winding down through the years and years of knowing
and he is
exactly what he is
under it all and watching from high
all at the same time.