Tai Chi must come back into my life.
I crave the peace of that unhurried dance,
the poems of the names of its moves.
My teacher always reminds it’s a martial art,
a perfection of movement, and energy.
There is a precise expansion of chi, enough to hold me
as I turn and bend within it
and come to a moment of something falling
into place – a key turning a lock.
The door opening is the practice prize.