I am small

so on particularly windy days

am propelled forward

by hidden hands

resetting my directional.

My body becomes a palette

of contortions-

A strange performance art

an awkward dance to meet

the unexpected acceleration.

Movement,

minus the self-imposed structure

we choose to expose to others.

But freed from that bondage

alone and one with the breeze

the invisible liberating the blinded

I see for the first time.